A Year Abroad
by DreamRealmer
Summary: AU - Harry decides to take a year off and travel before deciding whether or not to join the Aurors. When he reaches L.A. he meets a peculiar waitress named Anne.
1. Chapter 1 - The Choice

**A Year Abroad**

A Harry Potter/Buffy the Vampire Slayer Crossover

By: DreamRealmer

Disclaimer: _Obviously, I do not own any of the rights to Buffy or Harry Potter. There may be a few OCs popping up, but they mostly serve as devices to move the plot forward, or fill in holes._

_This takes place post-Deathly Hallows. I am going by the timeline established in the novels; therefore, the story starts summer 1998 (I might fiddle with some of the dates though). The Wizarding war is over, and Buffy is living in L.A. under the alias 'Anne.'_

_Obviously, this is an AU where the 'Super-happy-ending' Epilogue is not etched in stone. _

_I have not decided ahead of time what, if any, pairings will be different. I just thought I'd have some fun. Also, this will be an M for: Language, Suggestive Dialogue, Violence, and Bloodshed. Enjoy._

- A Year Abroad -

"Dialogue"

'_Thought_'

"_Foreign Language"_

_Writing/signage_

**July 31, 1998. The Burrow**

'_It's certainly been an interesting day_,' thought Harry, as he sat at the Weasley's kitchen table, moving some mashed potatoes around his plate with his fork.

He had finally fulfilled a promise he had made to himself to personally visit the families of all who died defending Hogwarts. He had attended the memorials, but they all wound up focusing on him. If there was one thing Harry did not want to be, it was the center of attention.

He wanted to make sure that every family understood he could not have succeeded without the brave actions of their loved ones.

'_I could have gotten the visits over with quicker, if I didn't have to make sure the damn Prophet wasn't following me,_' Harry mused to himself. '_But I have to admit, I did not see Kingsley's visit coming._'

"Harry, dear, are you all right?"

Harry was pulled out of his musings by Mrs. Weasley's question. It was only then he noticed the cake in front of him.

"Yeah. Sorry." Harry smiled awkwardly as he leaned forward and blew out the candles.

The atmosphere at the Burrow was very much subdued, compared to this time last year. The pains from the war were still fresh in everyone's minds. No one had objected to Harry's request for a simple family dinner for his birthday.

While Molly served the cake, Arthur Weasley took it upon himself to try to lighten the mood. "Harry, I was wondering if you could tell me about these Muggle devices I've been seeing more frequently on my way to work… a CAD player?"

Harry was pretty certain Mr. Weasley exaggerated his "misunderstandings" about muggle devices sometimes. And from Hermione's sly smirk, he was certain she had the same thoughts.

"**C.D.** player. It's an abbreviation. Compact Disc. It's a way Muggles can listen to music as they travel."

"Extraordinary. How does it work?" Arthur asked with his usual glee.

"Hermione, sweetie, how are your parents?" Harry mouthed a silent 'Thank you' to Mrs. Weasley for saving him from another round of 'Thousand questions Harry can't really answer about Muggles.'

"They're doing very well," Hermione replied. "I was concerned about ill effects from reversing the memory charms, but the Healer Kingsley sent with me to Australia was most helpful."

"How many times did you read up on the spell before you left?" Ginny asked with a playful grin.

Hermione seemed hesitant to answer. "If I had to guess… Twelve times?"

Ginny turned toward George with a triumphant grin. George rolled his eyes, and handed over a Galleon. Hermione huffed, but her expression softened when Ron kissed her cheek.

Molly nodded, "It's nice, all the things Kingsley is doing to help everyone. It's good he has the Ministry so active in rebuilding."

"Speaking of Royal," George said pointing a fork back-and-forth between Harry and Ron, "What did he want to talk to you two about, today at the shop?"

Ron sat up a little straighter at the opportunity to answer. "He wanted to give Harry and me advanced notice on a decree that he's issuing. He's waiving the N.E.W.T. requirements for any Hogwarts defenders looking to join the Aurors."

"Really," asked Hermione. "Does that mean the two of you are going straight into the Auror academy?"

"Yep," stated Ron. It was a moment before the rest of the table noticed Harry had not answered.

'_Well, here goes_,' Harry thought to himself. "I was actually thinking I might travel. You know, take a year abroad."

Harry couldn't quite tell who at the table was most shocked by this.

"What, again?" Now the flabbergast looks were on Ron.

Harry struggled not to roll his eyes. '_Only Ron would think of last year as a holiday._'

- A Year Abroad -

**August 20, 1998. Los Angeles**

'_I wonder what my friends are up to,' _Buffy mused to herself as she delivered a plate of food to a nice-looking, elderly couple.

"Anything else I can get for you?" Buffy asked with a smile

"No. Thank you, dear," said the silver-haired, older woman, returning Buffy's smile.

'_I wonder if they'll actually leave a tip, this time._'

"Hey, Anne." Buffy looked up at Tammy, the brunette waitress, currently holding a tray loaded with food. "Could you take the order from the group at table seven for me, please?"

"No sweat." '_I wonder if Mom is still mad at me?_'

Buffy made her way across the diner, adrift in her thoughts. She had been doing that quite a bit since coming out here. Lost in thought during the day, trying not to think about—

'_Angel?!'_

Buffy slowed as she caught site of the occupants of table seven; a bubbly teenaged couple sitting across from an eerily familiar, spiky, dark haired man. She shook herself out of her thoughts when she noticed they were sitting in front of a window, in the morning, of a cloudless day.

"Hi, I'm Anne. "

The blonde girl was the first to look up. "Hi, Anne. I'm Lily. This is Rickie," she paused to kiss Rickie. "And this is our new friend, Harry."

Buffy turned towards the raven-haired man she had been subconsciously avoiding looking at. _'He's got such amazing green eyes_.'

"Hello, Anne. How's your day been, so far?" Harry offered his hand to Buffy.

Lily squealed, "Don't you just love his accent?"

'_Please don't let him be a friend of Giles'.'_ "It's great. What part of England are you from?" Buffy couldn't help but feel the scars on the back of his hand.

"Town you've never heard of. Little Whinging, Surrey."

"You're right. I have never heard of it."

"Me and Rickie met him as we were leaving the tattoo parlor." Lily pulled up her sleeve and pressed her arm against Rickie's, showing off their tattoos of each other's names inside a lopsided heart. "Isn't it great?"

"That's nice." Buffy looked to Harry, "What'd you get?"

"I'm… not really one for tattoos."

"What about that, on your hand," asked Rickie.

Buffy caught Harry moving his left hand over his right.

"That's not a tattoo."

Rickie went silent as he realized his faux pas.

"Uh… Can I get you anything to eat?"

Lily and Rickie check their pockets for whatever loose bills and change they have. Before they can ask 'what can we get for $4.67,' Harry speaks up.

"I'm going to have the pancakes, with strawberry syrup. And put whatever they order on my bill."

"Oh, you don't have to do that," Lily offered.

"Nonsense. You two offered to show me to the youth hostel, least I can do is buy you breakfast."

Buffy genuinely smiled as she took Harry's menu. '_This guy is nice. I hope he isn't walking into a mugging. You can never tell with some people._'

"Thanks, man," said Rickie. "I'm going to have the scrambled eggs and sausage patties."

"I'll just have the oatmeal." Lily squinted as she looked at Buffy. "Don't I know you from somewhere?"

'_What? Oh, crap. Does she?'_ "I-I don't think so." Buffy looked Lily over trying to place her. "I'll go put your orders in. Tammy should be back to top off your drinks."

Harry watched as 'Anne' hurried to the counter. '_That was odd._'


	2. Chapter 2 - Doubts part 1

**Chapter 02 – Doubts part 1**

**August 20, 1998. Los Angeles**

Harry strolled the evening streets, taking in the eclectic sights of the City of Angels. He had grown up in the Muggle world, but the Dursley's never-ending quest to be "normal" meant that he was hurried away from anything that stood out. It was probably that repression that made Harry fall in love with the Wizarding world in the first place. The robes with vibrant colors, the hairstyles that seemed impossible, and the warped architecture that stood when there was no logical reason for it to stand. For the last seventeen years of his life, his knowledge of the Muggle world was only what was on Vernon and Petunia Dursley's list of pre-approved sites.

"_Vernon would have a bloody stroke if he saw any of this,_" Harry thought with a smile.

The streets seemed to have no lack of people in impossible outfits, and vibrantly colored hair. The buildings didn't seem to be slanting in all directions but up, but the graffiti and signage certainly drew the eye.

Harry pulled out a disposable camera and snapped photos of some of the nightlife. It was a compromise he had made with everyone, to embrace his "inner Colin Creevey," and send pictures back to everyone. He was sad, at first, that none of the others wanted to join him on his travels, but he could understand their reasons.

Hermione had no interest in being an Auror, and was staunchly against putting off her N.E.W.T.S. another year. Harry had tried to make the point that Hermione could probably ace the exams right now, if she wanted. He only got her to drop the death glare when he promised to take pictures of all the historic landmarks he would visit. "At least, you'll learn some new things," she told him.

Once Hermione had decided to stay, Ron was a lost cause. He wanted to spend as much time with her as he could, before going to the Academy. He did get Harry to promise to take some pictures of any sports teams he saw play.

Mr. Weasley was quick to hand Harry a list of all the Muggle devices he wanted pictures of. Mrs. Weasley simply wanted Harry to be safe, and made it clear that he was in no way obligated to get pictures of an "elekticity plant." Mr. Weasley was a bit crestfallen at that.

George had asked Harry to get "plenty of pictures of the Muggle birds." A request that drew the wrath of Ginny.

"_Ginny…_"

Of all the questions he had about his place in the Wizarding world, it was the ones about her he had the hardest time answering.

"_If I chose to leave, would she come with me? Would she be happy? Would I stay for her? Would I be happy?"_

Harry continued walking, though no longer taking in his surroundings. When the threat of Voldemort had been in front of him, Harry felt so sure of the path he wanted to take. He would become an Auror. He would take the fight to Voldemort. He would not stand idly by. Now, with Voldemort gone, he was no longer certain what path he wanted.

"_Do I really want to spend the rest of my life hunting down dark wizards? I want to have a normal life, but would I be if I walked away?"_

"…no one."

The hollow voice snapped Harry out of his thoughts. He turned in the direction of the voice and found an elderly woman huddled, shivering in a doorway. Mumbling over and over to her self.

"I am no one. I am no one. I am no one."

"Ma'am?" Harry looked around the stretch of sidewalk around him, making sure no one had a clear view of him as he pulled out his wand. A quiet incantation under his, and a thick red blanket appeared in front of him. He draped it over the homeless woman, stopping her shaking, but not her mumbling.

"Do you have somewhere you can go?"

"I am no one. I am no one," the woman continued.

Harry worried over the woman before him. He couldn't help but think of the Longbottoms, still residing in St. Mungo's. It hurt him that with all the abilities magic gave him; he could do nothing to help this woman. But, his knowledge of the Muggle world might be able to at least ease her suffering.

Harry watched as one officer eased the elderly woman into the car. The officer talking to Harry, an officer Blake, looked up from his notepad.

"There's not much we can do, I'm afraid. At the very least, we can get her to a shelter for the night."

"Thank you, officer. Whatever you can do for her." Harry shook the officer's hand before he got into the car.

Harry watched the car head off for a minute before he headed back in the direction of the hostel. It wasn't long before he came across a pair of familiar looking blondes. He couldn't quite make out what they were discussing, but what he did hear made him pause.

"_Did she just say 'vampires'?"_

"Hey, Harry," exclaimed Lily.

Buffy turned around and saw the dark-haired man from the diner approaching.

"_Is he following me?"_ Buffy thought, in a panic.

"Hey, Lily. Anne. What are you guys up to?"

Buffy kept her focus on the smiling man. She couldn't put her finger on why, but she knew there was more to him than just a tourist. She couldn't tell at the diner, but seeing him out and about… there was something in the way he carried himself.

"I was telling… Anne, here, about this rave Rickie and I heard about, and wanted to see if she wanted to come with."

Buffy inwardly frowned at the pause Lily took at her name. A glance at Harry, and she could see he had caught the pause, too.

"_Because there's nothing that can go wrong with a Brit knowing who I really am."_ Buffy thought sarcastically.

"I'm not really in the partying mood," Buffy said politely to Lily.

"I had a bit of a tiring day, site seeing," Harry waved his disposable camera. "I was just going to go call it a night."

"Okay. Um… could either of you loan me a few bucks? I don't have a ride…" Lily shuffled her feet in embarrassment.

Buffy wasn't quite sure if this was a cover for asking for money for food, but she felt she at least could help Lily out. She pulled a ten-dollar bill from her pocket, just as Harry handed one over, too.

"Are you sure you want to go alone?" Harry asked Lily. "It seems a bit dangerous to be out on your own." Buffy could hear the genuine concern in his voice.

"It's okay, Rickie's waiting for me at the party. Thanks, you guys." Lily started down the street before turning back to shout. "If I miss you before you leave, have a fun trip, Harry."

Harry smiled back as he waved. "I'll be sure of it, Lily."

There was an awkward silence between Buffy and Harry with Lily's departure. Buffy could tell that Harry was trying to think of something to say.

"So," began Harry, "which way are you headed?"

"My apartment is east of here."

"Oh. Okay. I'm heading north. You want me to tag along? Make sure you're alright?"

"You ask that of all the waitresses you bump into outside of work?"

"No. Just you seem like something's—" Harry was cut off by an elderly vagrant man bumping him as he walked by. "Sorry, mate. You alright?"

The man started muttering to himself. "I'm no one. I'm no one."

Buffy and Harry both raised eyebrows at that. "That's the second time I've heard someone say that tonight."

"Same here," said Harry. It was then he noticed the man stepping into the road, with the light from a set of headlights shining on him. "Wait, don't—!"

In almost the blink of an eye, Harry saw 'Anne' push the vagrant out of the way of the car and get hit her self. By instinct, he ran out to help her.

"Call an ambulance," an unknown woman shrieked.

Harry knelt next to the blonde waitress. "_Damn, she's fast,"_ he thought. He examined what he could of her without moving her, he didn't see more than a few bruises. Harry looked over at the car; it had been a while since he took Muggle sciences, but there seemed to be a lot of damage to the car for so few wounds on the girl in front of him.

Buffy sat up, to the surprise of Harry and the gathered crowd. "Anne, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Buffy said as she got to her feet.

Harry followed her gaze to the opposite sidewalk, both made a note that the elderly vagrant was gone.

"I got to go," Buffy said, pulling away from Harry.

"Wait, you might need a…" Buffy had already run around the corner. "…hospital." Harry looked again at the damaged car. "What?"


	3. Chapter 3 - Doubts part 2

**A Year Abroad**

**Chapter 3 – Doubts – part 2**

**Author's Note: **Okay, I know these chapters are a bit on the short side, and I apologize for that. One of the downsides of a full-time job and numerous side projects, I'm afraid. I will definitely be updating on the weekends, and I will try to update during the week as much as I can.

I don't think I am going to insert Harry into every episode of Season 3, if I skip episodes, assume they happened pretty much exactly the way they did on the show, unless mention is made of them otherwise.

Also, thanks to the few who have made comments and reviews, those are always appreciated.

**August 21, 1998. Los Angeles**

"_Okay, Potter, let's think about this. Teenaged girl gets hit by a car. Teenaged girl brushes it off, and runs out in the night. She must be strong… like Hagrid. Maybe she's part giant?"_

Harry watched the blonde waitress move around the tables through the Diner's front window.

"_But, she's so tiny! She's even shorter than me."_

Harry closed the bus schedule he's pretended to read for the last twenty minutes. When he started his trip, he wanted to stay as far away from the Wizarding world, as much as possible; barring the occasional trip to a Wizard bank or bar to send his letters back to everyone at the Burrow.

So much of his young life had been spent investigating weird things, trying to solve various puzzles. He just wanted one year of his life to pass without any puzzles gnawing at him. He didn't know whether to chalk this up to what Hermione called his 'saving-people-thing' or as some fallout of all of Dumbledore's meddling.

Any average wizard would have ignored the girl's quick recovery. The average wizard thinks nothing of falling dozens of feet off a speeding broom with only leathers to protect them, and walking away with a few scrapes. Mostly because the average wizard is so accustomed to Cushioning Charms and other safety spells that they assume they're always there. But Harry is no average wizard. He checked the car for such safety spells; there were none. He also did not see a wand in her hand last night. There was something peculiar about this Anne.

"_Guess I'll just have to go talk to her_." Harry took advantage of the brake in traffic to cross the road, and enter the diner. He took a seat at the counter and waited for Anne.

"_Ah, crap, he's here."_

Buffy had gotten used to what the Scoobies had dubbed 'Sunnydale Syndrome,' where people would ignore the paranormal events around them. She had depended on it as a camouflage for years, and it had worked—until _that_ night. The night the police stopped ignoring her presence around dead bodies. The night her mom had finally reached her limit of denial. She recognized the look on Harry's face last night; it was the same look on her mom's face when she walked out the door that night.

Her attempts to ignore Harry were thwarted when she had to drop off her order.

"Anne," he said softly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm walking around, aren't I?" Buffy thought Harry sounded very sincere in his concern, and he didn't give off any kind of creepy vibe like that Ken guy she ran into last night.

"Doesn't exactly answer my question. I must say, you answered it quite _Diagon Alley_."

"Some people would say I'm _acute_ that way." Buffy was literally saved by the bell as the next order came up. She'd leave Harry in his befuddled state and hope the pause allows her a chance to think of an excuse. _"I'm just glad Willow always used those geometry puns around us."_

Buffy delivered the food and checked if any of her tables needed refills… then all the tables that weren't hers between herself and Harry. Finally, with all the customers apparently "good for now," Buffy returned to the counter, still unsure how to best brush off Harry's questions.

"Anne, after what I saw, I already know you're not average." Harry paused as a dour looking man passed him on his way out. "Truth is, I'm not average either."

"_Great. Wonder if I'll have to slay him,"_ Buffy thought to herself dismally.

"I'm only curious," continued Harry, "if you're 'not average' the way I'm 'not average'."

"Depends on what you mean by 'not average.' If you're talking about the car last night, well, cheerleading can toughen a girl up, quite a bit."

There was a small feeling of satisfaction in Buffy when Harry rubbed his forehead, right on the distinctive scar on his forehead. She did make a note that he didn't clean his glasses. _"Guess that's a Giles thing, and not a Brit thing."_

"Alright," Harry sighed, "I can tell this is something you don't want me to push about. And I've gotten into enough messes by pushing before. Consider it dropped."

Buffy couldn't help but to ask. "So how are you 'not average'?"

Harry gave Buffy a smirk worthy of a Marauder. "I'll tell you mine, if you tell me yours."

Buffy just nodded hear and busied herself wiping down the counter. Their moment of truce was soon interrupted when a panicked Lily rushed in through the door.

"Anne," blurted Lily, "Harry, did either of you guys see Rickie last night?"

"No," answered Harry, "not since I went site seeing." Buffy just shook her head.

"He was supposed to meet me, but he never showed. Could you guys help me find him?"

Harry and Buffy shared a thought at this moment: _"Here we go, again."_

**Blood Bank**

Harry never liked hospitals. Technically, this was just a blood bank, but Harry still felt the dreaded hospital vibe. All the times he had to go to the hospital wing at school, the only bright side he felt was that Madame Pomfrey's bedside manner let you know that even though she was stern with you, it was only because she cared. Harry did not feel that from the doctor behind the counter.

"I'm sorry," the slightly haggard doctor said. "We haven't seen your friend in some time."

Lily's face fell at this news. She had brought them here as a place she thought Rickie might to earn a little cash. Slim odds considering his less than a month old tattoo with Lily's name in the middle. The doctor turned back to the other patients, leaving Harry and Buffy to console the upset Lily.

"How about this," Harry piped up as they reached the sidewalk. "You go by all the places you and Rickie have stayed, or hung out; Anne and I will look around the neighborhood? We can all meet up at the Diner in a few hours."

Lily nodded her head, a bit of resolve returning to her features. "Okay. I can do that. Thanks you two. This means a lot." Lily quickly hugged each of them and headed off. Harry and Buffy glanced at each other.

"This way," Harry asked, point to his right.

"Sure," Buffy replied, walking along side him.

They made it half the block in silence before Harry spoke up. "So, how do you know Lily? The two of you seem to have a history."

Harry barely caught the brief grimace on her face before she answered. "She fell in with a bad crowd back home. I helped get her out of a bad situation."

"Oh, so I'm not the only one?"

"The only one, what?"

"The only one with a 'saving people thing.'" Harry couldn't help but smile at the thought of Hermione rolling her eyes at the situation. _"At least it's just finding a missing person. Not like I'm charging into some dark wizard's trap."_

Buffy shook her head at Harry's comment. "Well, I'm trying to get away from that habit. With Lily, I feel like I've already saved her once, so I might as well do it again." She looked Harry up and down before asking her own question. "What about you? You're awfully quick to help out for a tourist. Why aren't you suppressing your 'saving people thing'?"

"Lily's a very nice girl," Harry replied. "I also have a soft spot because my mum's name was Lily."

"Was," Buffy asked, not entirely certain why she was.

"She died when I was a year old. Her and my dad." Harry's expression went pretty neutral at this point.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

Harry waved it off. "It's okay. Natural curiosity." They stopped briefly at the entrance of an alleyway. Harry caught sight of what looked like the tip of a shoe just past a dumpster. He headed down the alley with Buffy a step behind him.

As they neared the dumpster, Harry confirmed it was a shoe… and it wasn't empty. When they reached the other side of the dumpster, what they saw made both the wizard and the slayer pause.

"Isn't that…?" Harry asked.

"The man from last night," Buffy finished.

There, slumped against the wall, clutching an empty bottle of drain cleaner was the same elderly man Buffy had rushed out to save. Buffy knelt down to look for a pulse, but knew she wouldn't find one.

Harry's eyes took in the corpse of the poor man who just the night before was in such clear need of help. Before Harry could get too far into blaming himself, he spotted a blotch of color just below the man's sleeve. "Anne. Could you check his upper arm real quick?"

Buffy slowly lifted up the stained and torn sleeve, revealing a faded tattoo of a half-heart with a single word written in it: _Lily_.

"_So much for that 'not a dark wizard' theory,"_ Harry thought bitterly to himself.

**The Burrow**

Hermione and Ginny were once again sitting together on the couch in the living room, talking amicably and looking through some of the pictures Harry had sent back. Hermione would take the opportunity to go in depth about the significance of the various sites, although once Harry reached the States, she found herself having to learn about the monuments, too. The two upcoming Hogwarts seventh-years would also contemplate the kind of experiences he was having. There was also a pool going on amongst all the Weasleys as to when Harry would get himself into some kind of danger. George had lost when Harry managed a full week without incident.

The floo roared to life with green flames, followed closely by the appearance of a familiar looking head with black hair and green eyes. "Ron? Hermione? Ginny? Is anyone there," Harry called out.

Hermione and Ginny were quick to reach the floo. "Hey, Harry. Where are you calling from," Ginny asked.

"I'm in Los Angeles. I just sent a few more cameras by courier owl. Something's…come up."

Hermione refrained from any more small talk when she the look in Harry's eyes. "_Damn," _thought Hermione. _"I had Halloween."_ "What's wrong, Harry?"

"I think I may have stumbled across a dark wizard."

Hermione was much more willing to give Harry the benefit of the doubt after Malfoy in sixth year, and the Hallows a few months ago. "What have you found," she asks.

"The corpse of someone who was twenty yesterday, and looks eighty today," Harry said. "Hermione, do you know of any spells that can steal youth?"

Hermione wracked her brain. All of the research hunting Horcruxes focused on magic related to manipulating the soul. There hadn't been any mention made of youth, and the only experience any of them had with draining life force didn't physically age the victim. Hermione guiltily glanced at Ginny with this thought.

"I can't think of any spells or rituals that would do that," Hermione muttered.

"Hate to rush you, Hermione, but I don't have a lot of time."

Ginny sat up straight as she thought of the image of a baby's head on the body of a man. "Time!"

Harry's head whipped around to face Ginny. "Pardon?"

Ginny leaned closer to the floo, her eyes wide in excitement. "The Department of Mysteries. They had a whole room dedicated to Time Magics."

Hermione thought on what Ginny was saying. "It's possible. It would fit if someone had made some sort of time bubble. This bloke could have stumbled upon it and gotten trapped."

"Or he was captured," countered Harry.

To Hermione's surprise, it was Ginny who spoke next. "Harry James Potter," she exclaimed. "You will contact the local magical authorities, and let them handle this. Do you understand me?"

Harry and Hermione were both shocked at Ginny's reaction. It was at least thirty seconds before Harry continued. "I-I-I'll contact them. The only problem is… I'm not the only one looking into this…"

Ginny's and Hermione's eyes narrowed in matching glares that threatened to set Harry's head aflame. "Who else is there," asked Ginny sternly.

**Blood Bank**

Buffy lowered herself down from the skylight into the waiting room of the blood bank. She had to hurry; letting Lily storm out to blow off some steam was fine, but she couldn't leave her to her own devices for log. Considering when they met, she had decided to lock herself in a room with vampires; Buffy figured Lily's self-preservation instincts were minimal, at best.

"_What kind of girl just runs off when they learn their boyfriend is—okay, bad example."_ Buffy figured since Rickie had been aged, and was muttering the same words as an elderly woman she had seen earlier that same night, that there was a pattern. No one would notice another crazy homeless person the street, and one sure way to earn extra cash was donating blood. _"There has to be something here."_

Buffy had forced open a cabinet and was going through files when she heard the door squeak open. She turned, ready to face the imminent threat of… "Harry?!"

"Anne. Come on, we've got to go."

Buffy looked around in confusion. "How did you get in?"

"The back door was open. I thought that was how you got in?" It was actually an Alohamora, but he wasn't going to tell her that. "There's someone here, we've got to go."

"How did you know I was here? Are you following me?"

It was a tracking spell, but, again, not going to mention that. "You wouldn't believe how many problems in my life link back to blood."

"_I think I would,"_ Buffy thinks to herself. She lifts up a few open folders. "I think I found something. There's a bunch of donor files here stamped 'candidate.'"

Harry crossed the room to Buffy, keeping an eye on the side door his Homenum Revelio had indicated to him in hall. When he was next to her, he looked at the files. Sure enough, in bold red ink on Rickie's file, the word _CANDIDATE_.

"Okay. Now we just need to –"

"Who's there?"

In the time it took Harry to lay his hand on his wand, Buffy had grabbed the doctor from earlier and was forcing her over to the files.

"What does 'candidate' mean," demanded Buffy.

"I-I don't know. He just pays me to send him the healthy ones."

"What healthy ones?" Harry did not like where this was going.

"Runaways. People no one would miss." Harry was certain of two things now. One, these agings were not an accident. And two, this woman was no Madame Pomfrey.

**Teen Shelter**

Harry had to quicken his pace to keep up with Buffy, even then, he was a few paces behind. "Any thoughts on getting in?"

"Just follow my lead," said Buffy, climbing the stairs.

"_Oh,"_ thought Harry. _"One of _those_ plans."_

Buffy knocked on the door. It was opened by a taller man that, very much, reminded Harry of Krum.

"I'm sorry," said the man in a stern voice. "We're all full, tonight."

"Please," began Buffy, in an overly dramatic tone. "We need to get away from all the sin. All the music, and drinking, and… adult situations."

Harry was not certain whose face expressed the most disbelief at Buffy's ploy, his or the faux-Krum.

"And—Oh, forget it." With that, Buffy forced the door into the man's face and charged in. Harry was just a second behind her. Harry didn't notice until passing the threshold, that faux-Krum was out like a light.

"Nice hit, Anne." Any further praise was cut off by a scream from a side room. "That sounded like—"

"Lily!" Buffy stormed the door the scream came from. When she threw the door open, Harry saw some dark-haired man force Lily into what looked like a very dirty wading pool. In no time, Lily sank beneath the surface, silencing her shrieks.

"No," hollered Harry as Buffy grabbed the dark-haired man, pulling the two of them into the pool as well. Harry ran up to the edge of the pool, and could finally see the surface. It was a shiny black, and even though there were three people who just fell through, there was not a single ripple.

"It's a portal," Harry gasped aloud. A man clearing his throat drew Harry's attention back to the foyer. Two more intimidating men had come and revived faux-Krum. They were all glaring at Harry.

"I'm guessing you lot knew about this?" The only response Harry received was faux-Krum cracking his knuckles. "Well, since you lot are familiar with magical portals, I guess there's no harm in this…" Harry pulls his wand from the hidden holster on his side. With adrenaline-fueled speed, he hits each of the men with a silent Stupefy, throwing them all back into the hall.

Harry wastes no time in binding the men in an Incarcerous, and checking them for hidden weapons.

"_Strange,"_ he thought, _"none of them have wands."_ He rises, ready to rush into the portal. _"I've got to help—"_ He turns and freezes at the site before him.

"Anne?" Harry's eyes roamed over the waitress gripping an axe, stained in what he imagined to be blood. Behind her, several teens wearing burlap coveralls pause in shock. "Um… nice battle axe," Harry states nervously.

"Nice wand," Buffy replies, never taking her gaze off Harry.

Harry looks between Buffy, his wand, and the bound, unconscious men. "Crap. Any chance we could continue this in private?"

Buffy looks over her shoulder to Lily and nods toward the door. Lily leads the teens out the door.

"What kept you?"

Harry gulps at the ferocity in her gaze. "You were gone less than a minute." He gestures to the still bound men. "I was busy."

Buffy glances down at Harry's wand. "I take it this has something to do with how 'not average' you are?"

Harry nods. "Probably as much as all that," he says, gesturing at the ax.

"How long are those guys going to be out?" Buffy's gaze shifted to the bound men as she stepped closer to Harry.

Harry examined the men briefly. "A few minutes, probably. These guys don't seem like any magic users I know of. They weren't carrying wands."

"They're probably demons," Buffy observed dismissively.

Harry nodded before his eyes went wide. "What?"

"They were abducting kids, making them work in some alternate dimension. One day here is like, a hundred years there." Buffy continued.

"Oh." Harry paused. "You said demons? Shouldn't we uh—seal the portal, or call a priest?" Harry quickly approached panicking.

"Nah. They already sealed it on their end. And these guys…" Buffy rested the axe across her should as she headed for the front door. "Let them see what it's like rotting in some foreign dimension."

Harry gaped at the presumed Demons a while longer before finally hurrying to catch Buffy.

"Does this sort of thing happen often, Anne?"

Buffy halted, and turned toward Harry. She extended her right hand. "Buffy Summers, vampire slayer."

Harry shook her hand. "Harry Potter, wizard."

**August 24, 1998. The Burrow.**

Hermione reviewed the list of school supplies she and Ginny would have to purchase at Diagon Alley today. There wasn't much to get beyond the standard supplies, but Hermione also wanted to grab whatever N.E.W.T. study materials she didn't already have.

Hermione had just finished the last of her orange juice when a dark colored barn owl flew in and landed in front of her. Molly, Ginny and Ron's eyes gained a hint of excitement about whom the letter was likely from.

They did receive the package with the two disposable cameras last night, and after the floo call, they had been waiting with baited breath for something about Harry to appear in the Prophet. However, with no stories in the paper, a sadly familiar sense of foreboding had fallen over the Burrow. With this in mind, Hermione spared the gathered Weasleys too much anxiety when she gently relieved the owl of the envelope and read the front.

"It's from Harry." She unfolded the letter on the table so everyone could read it at once.

_Dear Weasleys and Hermione,_

_I just wanted to let you know that all was well, and I am currently on my way out of Los Angeles._

_Don't worry, Hermione, I did contact the American aurors, like I promised. However, in trying to keep my partner-in-snooping out of trouble, we wound up finding the source of the bizarre aging and managed to shut it down. No hospital trips were needed, and no dark wizards had to be fought._

_My next stop is Buffy's (Anne's real name) hometown, Sunnydale, CA. From what I've gotten Buffy to tell me, she's had to face about as many dangers as we have, and I thought I could at least see her home. I'll send you guys the address you can reach me at when I'm settled._

_Missing you all,_

_Harry_

_p.s. Did you guys know demons are real?_

Hermione was the first to finish the letter, and had enough to time to re-read the ending before anyone else. For a solitary moment, everyone at the table stared blankly ahead before they all asked in unison, "WHAT!?"

End Chapter 03.

**A/N: **_Okay. Again, I apologize for the slow start, but I do have a few ideas for how Harry can help out in later 'episodes', and there is a reveal I have planned that will act as an over-all explanation as to why magic is allowed to run rampant in Sunnydale. And no, I am not going to use "ambient magic from the Hellmouth acts as interference to monitoring charms," or "The Mayor made the town unplottable." Those are good plot points, but they've been done before._

_I can also say, without a doubt, Harry will not be appearing in the Dopplegangland episode. (If Buffy never came to Sunnydale, she never would run off to LA, met Harry, etc. etc.) So I am not even going to bother doing a version of it in A Year Abroad._

_Let me know your thoughts. Love getting feedback. I apologize ahead of time for shifting in between 3__rd__-person-present tense and 3__rd__-person-past tense. As I said earlier, I have spent a long time writing scripts, so at times it is very easy to fall back into those habits._


	4. Chapter 4 - The Long Bus Ride Home

**A Year Abroad**

**Chapter 4 – The Long Bus Ride Home**

**Disclaimer: ** _I obviously own neither Harry Potter, nor Buffy the Vampire Slayer._

**August 22, 1998. A Bus Just Outside of Los Angeles**

Staring out the window as the sprawl of Los Angeles thinned out to the span of open highway, Buffy reflected back on the first time she had run away from home. She had been six years old, and only made it about eight blocks before turning back home. When her mother opened the door, Buffy was standing there, smiling, holding a lost kitten she had found. All memory of whatever slight had caused the six year old to pack away her favorite crayons, a shirt, and her Barbie into her Gem book bag was gone; all she wanted was to know if she could keep the kitten.

The last time she ran away, she came back with stories from Vegas and a red-faced Pike.

Buffy turned away from the window, thinking '_This time, I'm coming back with a wizard_.'

Buffy watched Harry in the seat next to her, pen in his hand, worrying over a piece of what looked like old paper. Buffy would have been more surprised when she found Harry was only a few months older than her, she had assumed he was at least twenty. But after her experiences as the Slayer, she knew all too well how experiences could age a teenager.

"Letter home," she asked, trying to fill the monotonous quiet of the bus ride.

Harry looked over with a soft smile on his face. "Yeah. To pretty much the only family I have left."

Buffy nodded silently. She remembered what she had learned about the dark-haired wizard so far, _'Orphaned at one. Raised by Aunt and Uncle…_' That was all she had. _'I should probably change that_,' she thought.

"Are they pretty nice?"

"Yeah. The Weasleys pretty much took me in when I was eleven. If it weren't for them…" Harry thought for a moment, before glancing around the surrounding seats. Buffy glanced around as well, out of reflex. When she looked back, Harry had his wand in hand, and was muttering what Buffy recognized as Latin.

"Is something wrong," Buffy whispered, leaning in close to Harry.

"Don't worry about whispering," Harry said. "I cast a Muffliato around us. No one can hear what we're saying."

Buffy chuckled at a thought. "I bet that one is popular with all the wizard kids."

"I think that's why Mrs. Weasley always tried to keep us in her sights." Harry shared her chuckle briefly before rubbing his forehead. "I'm trying to process everything about last night. And I know you told me I would get all my answers in Sunnydale, but… I'm having a bloody difficult time of it."

Buffy waited patiently for Harry to complete his thought. "Since I found out I was a wizard, I had been taught there was the Muggle world, and there was the Wizarding world. And the Statute of Secrecy was a neat little border making sure that never the twain would meet. And now, I stumble upon a third world—a demon world at that—and I find that world bleeds into the other two." Harry finally looks questioningly at Buffy. "How do you manage without going insane?"

Buffy allowed herself a moment before answering. Really, it was for Harry's benefit; she's had this answer prepared for nearly two years. "I've kind of learned to adapt to a new definition of sanity." Harry's expression shifted to incredulity. "Hear me out. At fifteen, some old guy tells me it is my destiny to fight and kill vampires. I think he's crazy; until I see one. So I change my definition of sanity to include 'vampires are real.' At sixteen, Giles tells me my new town is a Hellmouth, and that all kinds of creepy-crawlies are real; and I fight them all. So I change my definition of sanity to include 'demons are real.' I'm sure you had some shocking revelations as to what creatures were really real while you were learning magic, right?"

Harry nodded at this. "Yeah. My first year, alone, I learned that there were actually dragons, centaurs, Cerberuses, and unicorns."

Buffy paused in wide-eyed wonder. "Unicorns are real?"

"Did you not hear me mention the other three?" Harry couldn't suppress his smile.

"Hey. I'm a seventeen year-old girl. I'm not too old to fawn over unicorns," Buffy huffed at Harry. "But, maybe that's how we can help wrap your head around things; find out what your world and mine have in common. You don't seem that surprised about vampires?"

"One of my professors invited one to his Christmas party in my sixth year."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Bloke named Sanguini. I think he was Italian. Anyway, he was a member of a sect that was trying to live off of human blood."

"Well, that's nice."

"Key word being 'trying.' He spent a lot of the night eyeing all of girls' necks."

Buffy frowned slightly. "And the professor let him into a school?"

"A school where all the students walked with carved pieces of wood, and knew spells to light him on fire."

"Good point." Buffy thought a moment, "Werewolves?"

Harry couldn't help but smile at thoughts of Remus. "One of my professors was a werewolf. He knew my parents, and I'm his son's godfather."

Buffy mentally sighed in relief. "That's sweet. One of my friends is a werewolf. We have a safe room we lock him in the three nights of the full moon."

"And you lot probably don't have access to wolfsbane potion," Harry said thoughtfully.

"What's that?"

"It allows the human mind to stay in control during the change. Also lessens the pain of transformation."

Buffy beamed a bright smile at this news. "Is it hard to get a hold of? Could your professor friend help us?"

The small wince on Harry's face did not escape Buffy's notice. "I might be able to track some down for you. Remus is…"

'_Nice going, Summers.'_ Buffy mentally kicked herself at this point. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

Harry waved off her apology. "It's okay. You had no way of knowing about Remus and Tonks."

"Tonks?" Buffy asked before she could stop herself, once again.

"Remus' wife. They both died in the final battle."

The two sat in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes. Harry dealing with the recent losses of his friends; Buffy doing her best not to die of embarrassment. After much thought and fidgeting, Buffy spoke up. "Maybe you should pick the next creature?"

Harry mentally flipped through all the creatures he had encountered in his years at Hogwarts. Thinking about Remus brought his mind to how he had learned about Remus' connection to his parents. The private lessons, studying the Expecto Patronum. "There's one creature, maybe you know of them. I wouldn't be surprised if they actually were demons. Dementors?"

Buffy drew a blank. "Can't say that I know of them. What do they do?"

"They're possibly the darkest creatures known to my world. They're wraiths that feed on all the happy memories someone has. Making their victims relive the most terrible and traumatic experiences of their lives. And when there is nothing left, they kiss you. And they take your soul. Leaving nothing but a breathing, hollow husk behind."

Buffy couldn't tell if her nervous gulp was as loud as it seemed in her head. "No," she whispered. "Can't say I've encountered anything like that."

"Consider yourself lucky, then."

Buffy could only shake her head at that thought. _'Lucky? Wouldn't call myself lucky after last summer.'_ "You ever have an ex turn evil on you, terrorize your friends and family, then have to kill them to keep the world from being sucked into a hell dimension?"

Harry was agog at this. "Um…No."

"Consider yourself lucky, then," Buffy responded before going silent again.

Harry couldn't help but look at Buffy in a new light with this information. In the short time he's known her, he's seen her strength and speed, and could only imagine her prowess with medieval weaponry. He tried to imagine his war from her perspective. A flash of a Voldemort-possessed Ginny cutting a swath of destruction through the Hogwarts grounds during the final battle, summoning a spell that would destroy everyone appeared in his mind. _'Would I have had it in me? Would I have sacrificed Ginny to save everyone?'_

He looked over at his travel companion and saw the tears starting to form in her eyes. He knew then, Buffy was a kindred spirit. He wondered if there was some odd balancing act going on with the Wizarding world and the Demon world that required their champions to suffer simultaneously. To be adrift simultaneously. He decided, right then and there, that even if this trip didn't provide him with answers on how to live a balance between the Muggle and Wizarding worlds, he would at least help Buffy find some peace in her own.

"I'm sorry," he finally said. "I didn't mean for this to become a game of 'who has the worse battle scars,' or anything like that. We've both suffered, and we've both lost recently. Trying to one-up each other demeans everything we've been through. I want to help you. Even if all I do is provide you a ear that understands the pain you've gone through." Harry grasped Buffy's hand in his, giving it a firm squeeze. "If it means anything, I think you'd have been an incredible witch. And I hope I can count come to count you as a friend."

Buffy closed her eyes, allowing a tear to finally run down her cheek. "Thank you," she said hoarsely. She pulled her hand loose from Harry's grasp to wipe her eyes. "And I'm glad you don't want to try to one-up each other," she said solemnly. "Because I would have whooped your ass." The smile on her face let Harry know that Buffy had quickly returned to a lighter, more teasing mood.

Harry lightly patted her knee. "Sure you would have," he replied sarcastically.

Buffy quickly rose to the challenge. "I blew up a demon with a rocket launcher my friends stole from an army base."

"I rode on the back of a dragon with two of my friends, after robbing a Wizard bank."

"Last year, I killed a giant snake demon with a sword, under a frat house."

"I killed a sixty-foot Basilisk with a sword, under my school, when I was twelve," he retorted.

"Are you sure you're not a Slayer?" Buffy asked kiddingly.

"Pretty sure. Ever have to fight off man-sized spiders," Harry asked.

"Does a man-sized Praying Mantis count?"

"Was it just the one?"

"Yeah. How many spiders did you have to fight?"

"I lost track after fifty."

"Eww. You win."

The two shared a laugh about their similar misadventures, momentarily forgetting the fresh wounds of those they had lost. After a few snorts and chortles, Harry finally pulled himself together.

"I'm going to finish this letter back home. I really want to post it at the next stop," Harry explained. "After that, I'll tell you all about the Weasleys, and you can tell me about your friends."

"Sounds like a plan," Buffy replied nodding.

**End Chapter 4**

_Okay, so this was my first "bottle-episode" chapter. I hope it wasn't too dry. I really wanted to do a simple scene with just the two of them, and figured the bus ride was the best chance to do it. Next chapter will pick back with the events of the "Dead Man's Party" episode… Hopefully I can just write that in two chapters, as opposed to the three I used for "Anne."_

_I also have a poll question to bring forward:_

_- _Should I work a visit from Ron into the later chapters_? I could go either way with the story I have in mind, just wanted some feedback._


	5. Chapter 5 - Inferi-ority Complex

**A Year Abroad**

**Chapter 5 – Inferi-ority Complex**

**A/N: **_Okay, I want to take this opportunity to respond to a question someone posed as to whether there was going to be any Bashing in this story (I assume they're referring to Ron or Dumbledore). If you define 'bashing' as a character making fun of another character: yes, there will be some bashing. Mostly the Scoobies being aghast at some of the choices of Albus Dumbledore. But if you define 'bashing' to be the author portraying Dumbledore or Ron as manipulative, evil bastards… NO. There will be no bashing._

_Ron was jealous, yes, but he worked through it. Him leaving in DH is no different than what happens with the Scoobies in 'the Yoko Effect'; an outside force causes them to voice their insecurities in an unhealthy manner._

_Dumbledore is a far more complicated issue. I do not buy into the theory that he was maliciously holding information back from Harry. I believe, much like Papa Titus, he wanted Harry to "_earn"_ the knowledge to defeat Voldemort. Also, Dumbledore was NOT omniscient. He acted on the information he had, and thus made mistakes._

_I would go further, but there's actually going to be a scene in a later chapter where Buffy and Harry have a discussion similar to this. Some of you might even be able to guess what episode I am going to have this conversation about mentors take place after. (wink)_

_Now, on with the story. As always, I own neither HP, nor BtVS._

* * *

**August 23, 1998. Willy's Bar**

Harry walked out of the beautiful Californian sunlight into the dingy atmosphere of the bar Buffy had said had been a 'great source of intel.' He had enjoyed his time in Sunnydale, so far. The people seemed accommodating, the weather was always a plus, and if he hadn't learned about the town from Buffy, he would have assumed it was just a nice, quiet place to live. Although there still would have been things to raise his suspicions, like the sheer number of cemeteries the town had.

He had checked into the Sunnydale Motel last night, after parting ways with Buffy at the Bus Depot, with the arrangement to meet with Buffy the next evening. He was quite surprised to learn that the motel was cheaper than the hostels he'd visited. That was, until he stepped into the room he had paid for. Harry had only seen the inside of Riddle Manor in flashes, but he was certain that long abandoned house was in better condition than his room.

The decision to seek better living quarters in the near future was a no-brainer. It was actually part of his motivation for coming to this bar today. He decided to go in the daytime to minimize the number of vampires he'd run into on his own. However, he wasn't fully prepared for the scene he found himself walking in on.

'_If things go sour, take out the green guy with the claws first,'_ Harry thought to himself, as he eyed the two demons sharing drinks at the bar. There was a smaller, yellow-skinned demon with horns, but Harry was more worried about his friend that reminded him somewhat of Hagrid. There was a third demon at the bar that seemed non-threatening. Harry didn't know what to make of him, other than the rolls and flaps of skin were a bit unnerving.

"Sorry kid, we don't server minors in this establishment," said the bartender. He was a short, skinny man with an accent Harry had heard all the time during his short stay in New York. In any other bar, the man would not have stood out. But, given the clientele of this place…

"I'm sorry," Harry began. "I'm just looking for Willy." The bartender froze at this, confirming Harry's suspicion about his identity.

"D-does he owe you money?" Willy asked.

Harry approached the bar as smoothly as he could. The demons, at present, were not paying him too much mind, but he didn't want to antagonize them either.

"Nothing like that. I'm new in town, and a friend of mine said you'd be able to help me find a few places," Harry said, smiling as the nervous bartender let out a sigh of relief.

"Oh, that's no problem. Of course, depending what you're looking for, it might cost you." Willy's face broke out in a smile that made Harry momentarily flashback to Lockhart.

"My friend assured me you'd be able to help me at no cost," Harry said, playing up the naïve tourist act.

Willy laughed aloud, looking at the demons nearby for support, "Who is this friend? They sound like they don't like you that much." This got a laugh out of the green-skinned demon, and a chuckle out the yellow one. The third stayed quiet, and drank his drink.

"Cute girl. Blonde. Almost my height. Goes by the name 'Slayer.'" At this, the green and yellow demons pushed back their stools and moved as far from the bar as possible. Willy's face dropped in shock, the smile disappearing in an instant.

"Whoa, now. I don't care who you call friends, you do not come into my establishment throwing that name around."

Harry sighed internally. '_Buffy warned me I might have to do this_.'

Harry reached over the bar, grabbing Willy by the lapels of his shirt. He brought his face close enough to whisper to him.

"I know you're putting on a show for your customers. How much am I actually going to have to hit you?"

Willy subtly looked over Harry's shoulder at the demons trying to blend in with the wall. They were still keeping a wary eye on the proceedings at the bar.

"You hit as hard as the Slayer?" Harry shook his head softly. "A quick punch in the nose should do it."

Harry released Willy and delivered a quick punch to Willy's nose. Willy sold the hit by grasping his nose and stumbling backward into the display of drinks behind the bar, shaking the bottles, but not knocking any over.

"Alright," Willy shouted melodramatically. "What do you want to know?"

"Where's the nearest Wizarding establishment?" Harry growled, playing the part of an angry interrogator.

"It's downtown, across from that club, the Bronze. Place called the Silver Dragon." Harry had to admit, Willy played the part of reluctant snitch well.

"Now, that wasn't so hard now, was it? Maybe next time you'll be a bit more courteous to strangers." Harry gave Willy a sly wink before turning for the door.

* * *

**Espresso Pump**

Buffy sat despondently out front of the Espresso Pump, waiting, hoping for Willow to arrive. She knew her return was not going to be easy. Her experience with Ken in the Demon dimension helped her remember her strength as a Slayer, and sharing stories with Harry had reminded her how much she needed her friends. However, seeing everybody last night reminded her just how much damage had been done to her relationships.

She knew getting back into school was going to be a tough hurdle, but she had assumed her friends would help her through it. And after all the things Snyder had said to her, in front of her own mother, she could really use a friend.

'_Where are you, Willow?'_ she thought as she watched all the people going about their business.

It was a minute later that she spotted a familiar face coming up the sidewalk to her. She genuinely tried to smile at Harry, but she was unable to hide the sorrow in her eyes.

"Buffy," Harry asked, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Just meeting up with Willow." She had put as much heart into sounding steady, but her voice broke slightly near the end. Harry rested a hand on her shoulder as he sat down.

"When are you meeting her?" Harry asked softly. Buffy's smile quickly faded, reverting to her previous sorrowful look.

"Thirty minutes ago," she squeaked out. Harry squeezed her shoulder and brought her in for a hug.

"Do you want some company while you wait?" Harry rubbed her shoulder, trying to comfort the girl he felt was a kindred spirit.

"I'm just going to walk home." Buffy pulled back from the hug, wiping her eyes of the tears she had refused to shed.

"I'll come with you." Buffy nodded her head in acceptance of Harry's offer. "Besides, I'm great at listening to a friend's troubles."

Buffy was able to briefly push through her pain at those words. A smile crossed her face as she spoke. "We're friends?"

"Of course," Harry jovially responded as he hopped to his feet. "I don't just follow any strange girl home." Harry paused briefly as he recalled the events of this past Christmas Eve in Godric's Hollow. "At least, not anymore."

Buffy mentally stored that comment away for future inquiry as she began guiding Harry back to her house. "So, friend, got any friendly advice on dealing with a school principal out to make you suffer?" Buffy had asked half-jokingly, but had to pause when she saw Harry reflexively rub the scars on the back of his left hand.

"Well," Harry began, "I'd say, 'don't be scared to confide in your friends.' Failing that, fireworks and a few centaurs should do the trick."

"Shoot. The centaur-owned fireworks emporium shut down last year." Buffy sarcastically responded.

* * *

**Revello Drive**

The pair walked side-by-side down the street. Harry had gotten Buffy to fill him in on the details of her encounter with her friends the night before. He was honestly impressed by the group's dedication.

"They were out hunting vampires?"

"Yeah. They had codenames, and walkie-talkies, and everything."

"Did they actually stake him, or…" Harry left the question hanging when he saw the grimace on Buffy's face.

"Nah. He knocked them all down. But I took care of him."

"Like riding a bicycle, eh," the young wizard prompted.

"A bicycle that turns to a pile of ash when you poke it," the blonde Slayer replied half-heartedly.

Harry noticed Buffy's drop in tone. "Is there something about your friends' actions that's troubling?"

"It's just…" Buffy paused, struggling to put her feelings into words. "I don't know. We were all so awkward to each other. Like nobody knew what to say."

"How'd they take the news of what happened in L.A.?"

"I didn't tell them," Buffy muttered. "I didn't want to tell them about you without introducing you first."

Harry nodded, but felt he should dig deeper. "Did you tell them anything about what else happened? The other dimension, the missing teens?"

"No," Buffy grimaced. "That stuff is pretty run-of-the-mill for our crowd."

"Did you tell them why you left?" asked Harry.

Buffy remained silent a few seconds, looking down at her feet. "I… couldn't."

Harry took in Buffy's body language; the slumped shoulders, the downward gaze. "So what did you talk about," he asked her gently.

Buffy pulled her head up and took a deep breath before responding. "How my mom was, what I was going to do today…"

"Small talk?"

"Pretty much." Buffy's gaze returned to her feet. Harry knew her shoes, while stylish, were not that interesting.

"So the issue seems to me that both you and your friends want to say something, but neither side is able to," Harry summarized.

"Well, sure, you say it like that…" Buffy huffed.

Harry ceased his steps, and gently took Buffy's hands in his own. He waited until her gaze met his to speak. "Buffy, you and your friends need to talk. Actually talk. You're all hurting, and until you can open up about that, this distance you feel, will only get worse."

Buffy's sniffed loudly, her eyes filled with tears, as she nodded her head at Harry's words. As the wizard hugged his newest friend close, he couldn't help but think to himself: _'Teaspoon, my arse, Hermione.'_

After settling herself down, Buffy pulled back from the hug. She wasn't certain whether it was the hugs in general, or Harry's hugs specifically that cheered her up, but she was not going to complain about the results. Looking across the street, Buffy spotted the familiar front of her house.

"Come on," Buffy said, pulling Harry along by the arm. "I want to introduce you to my mom."

* * *

**Buffy's House**

Joyce Summers sat at the kitchen island, sipping on a cup of tea. The last twenty-four hours had put her through the emotional wringer. Buffy was home. All summer, she had been hoping to say those words, to once again have her little girl back in her arms. But now that she was home, Joyce couldn't, for the life of her, figure out what to say to Buffy.

The memory of her last words to Buffy that night still pained her. She had essentially kicked her daughter out of her home for saving the world. She hadn't meant the words, she was simply frightened of what her daughter said she did every night. _'Vampires, demons, the forces of darkness,'_ no matter how much Mr. Giles had tried to explain it all to her in the weeks following that terrible night, Joyce couldn't shake off the one question nagging her; _'Why didn't she feel she could tell me?'_

Her musings were interrupted when she heard the front door open. Pat had just left, so Joyce doubted it was her. Any further questions were halted when she heard Buffy's voice call out.

"Mom?"

"In here, honey," Joyce called back over her shoulder. Her curiosity piqued again when she heard a second set of footsteps entering the kitchen alongside Buffy's. Joyce turned around and saw Buffy leading a raven-haired young man by the hand into the kitchen. Joyce's remained silent, but her blood pressure went through the roof.

"Mom," Buffy said, her face beaming, "I want you to meet Harry. I met him in L.A."

"Hello, Mrs. Summers. Buffy's told me a lot about you." Harry held out his right hand to shake Joyce's; he noticed, oddly, that Joyce's eyes had lowered to examine Harry's left. The one Harry just remembered was clasped in Buffy's.

"Oh… No! Nothing like that," Harry exclaimed, releasing Buffy's hand. "We're just friends. I have a girlfriend back home. I wouldn't…"

Buffy's eyes went wide as she realized what Harry was conveying Joyce thought. "Oh, God. Mom, I didn't mean to sound like I…"

After releasing an enormous sigh, and a silent prayer of thanks to the god of don't-let-my-daughter-have-run-off-and-gotten-married, Joyce schooled her features and addressed the teens.

"Let's just chalk this up to a momentary lapse into a mother's worst fears, and leave it at that?"

"Sounds good," Harry and Buffy replied in unison.

Joyce held her hand out to Harry. "Joyce Summers."

Harry shook Joyce's hand firmly. "Harry Potter. How do you do?"

"Much better," Joyce replied jokingly. "How do you and Buffy know each other?"

Buffy worried about what path to take answering a question like this. Her mother was aware she was the Slayer, it was that truth finally taking root in her mom's mind that lead to her running off, but she didn't know how much to tell her mom about Harry. She didn't want to keep any more secrets from her mom, but she didn't know how many people Harry wanted knowing about his powers, either. She went to the fridge to busy herself while Harry answered.

"Well, I'm sort of taking a year to travel, now that I'm out of school, and I met Buffy in Los Angeles. We got to talking while helping a mutual acquaintance, and when she decided to return to Sunnydale, I thought I'd join her."

"He's being a bit modest," Buffy stated. "He actually helped convince me to come back." Harry shrugged shyly at Joyce's look of delight at him.

Buffy was impressed with Harry's answer. It provided the needed details without disclosing his magic, or the fact she made her decision after hacking apart a demon in another dimension. _'Guess I'll just follow his lead with the answers,'_ Buffy thought to herself.

"Oh, Buffy, before I forget, Willow called. She said she was sorry, but something came up. She said she'd call back." Buffy frowned at this news her mother delivered.

"Did she leave a message?" It wasn't difficult for Harry to pick up the hurt in Buffy's voice.

"No. But I had a thought," Joyce continued, "What if I invited Willow, and Mr. Giles, and everybody over for dinner tomorrow night? Don't you think that'd be nice?"

Buffy signaled her mom with her eyes toward Harry, who had taken a seat on the opposite end of the island. "And Harry, of course."

"I wouldn't want to impose on you, Mrs. Summers," Harry politely responded.

"Not at all, Harry."

"Do you want me to call everyone, and invite them over?" Buffy offered.

Joyce paused at this. "I kind of already did."

Harry had to cover his mouth to hide the smile on his face. _'Mrs. Weasley would love her.'_

"But, could you run down and get the company plates?"

Buffy raised an eyebrow at this. "Mom, Willow and everybody aren't company-plate people. They're normal-plate people."

"We never have company over," this time, Joyce's eyes signaled Buffy toward Harry. "Indulge your mother?"

Buffy decided to leave the discussion at that, and headed for the basement door. _'Any other awkward situations going to be thrown my way, today?'_ Buffy grumbled to herself.

* * *

**Later**

Buffy moved a final shovelful of dirt over before she figured the hole was deep enough. She was just thankful she didn't have to handle the cat's corpse. _'Sometimes it's handy to have a polite, chivalrous Brit around to handle the truly dirty work.'_

Once Harry had set the bag containing the dead cat in the hole, Buffy was about to move the dirt back when Joyce stopped her.

"Don't you want to say anything?"

"Like what, 'thanks for stopping by and dying?'" Buffy snarked.

Harry stepped in at this point. "Sorry, lost, lonely cat, for what befell you before you could make your way home. May your burdens be lifted, and you find all the comforts that were missing in your time."

The Summers women were silent for a moment as they took in Harry's countenance. Buffy knew Harry had recently lost some friends, but looking at him, how his eyes were staring at the cat, it seemed like he was reliving that funeral right now.

"That sounds like the best words to say," Joyce said softly. Buffy wrestled whether to ask Harry if there was anything she could do, but decided it was probably best to finish burying the cat first.

Once that was done, Joyce was the first one to speak. "Where are you staying at, Harry?"

Harry shook his head quickly; clearing whatever thoughts he had been mired in. "The Sunnydale Motel." Both Summers' winced at this. "I know. But when I met Buffy, I was staying at a youth hostel, so this is… just a small step down. I was actually planning to look for somewhere nicer tomorrow."

"Just so you know," Buffy stated, "because you don't technically 'live' there, vampires don't need an invite to enter hotels or motels."

Harry momentarily froze at this news. He contemplated what his response would be. "Really? Huh." Harry was mentally scrolling through the list of wards he could put up, himself, to protect him no matter where he went.

"Wow," Buffy chuckled. "That was almost a dead-on imitation of Oz."

* * *

**August 24, 1998. The Silver Dragon.**

Harry examined the alleyway that separated The Bronze from what appeared to Muggles as an empty warehouse. To the Muggle denizens of Sunnydale, all that adorned this wall right across from the front entrance of the town's most popular- and from what Harry could tell, _only-_ nightclub was graffiti. What was vexing Harry, was the fact that was all he could see, too.

He was not as gifted as Dumbledore, or other wizards, at picking up areas that knew magic, but he could at least tell there was something here. But there was no odd signage, no out-of-place doors, and it was too early in the day to be able to see a lot of oddly dressed people wandering around. All he could see was design after design in paint.

He was just about to give up, and head back to Willy's bar when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. As he turned back toward the wall, what he saw disappeared once again.

'_A very mild Notice-Me-Not charm_,' Harry exclaimed to himself.

Hermione had drilled him and Ron in the use and limitations of the charm while on their search for horcruxes. She had mentioned that what most often gave away the presence of these charms was a witch or wizard subconsciously noticing something caused by what was missing. In this case, what the Notice-Me-Not charm couldn't hide was a shadow.

Harry pulled out his wand as he stepped closer to the section of wall. He cast a silent Lumos and waved it around. He stopped when the light not only cast the shadow of a large doorknob, but also illuminated a design of a dragon made of silver paint.

The tavern he stepped into shared some elements with the Leaky Cauldron, but for the most part, resembled more of an early-century American bar than a Dickensian pub. The tables and bar were wooden, but all the seats had shiny red upholstery. The bar was more of an island, occupying the center of the room, as opposed to the far wall, and the bartenders stood in the middle of the square. Near the back, he saw a fireplace and one of the many signs on the wall read: _Owl Post Available Here_.

Harry walked up to the bar, taking in the appearance of the bartender in front of him. He was a taller man, with salt-and-pepper hair, dressed in a striped button-up dress shirt with an apron around his waist, covering his dress slacks. The man had a grin on his face as Harry reached the bar.

"Well done, young sir," the man said in a cheery voice with a Boston accent. "You figured out the door a lot quicker than other newbies. The name's Gilbert Sullivan, but you can call me Gil."

"Harry Potter, but you can call me Harry."

"Oh, don't worry, Harry, we've heard of you even on this side of the Atlantic." Gil continued wiping down the bar, but never took his eyes off Harry. "Anything I can get for you?"

"Just a butter beer. It's too early in the day for anything stronger, and I imagine I couldn't order anything else, anyway."

Gil opened a bottle and set it before Harry. "Yeah, we hear that a lot from European types. There's only so many times I can apologize for the drinking age."

Harry took a sip to allow him to glance around the room once more. "Have to admit, it took me a while to find this place. Is this the only wizard business in town?"

"The only _solely_ wizard business, yeah. You can get some decent potions ingredients at The Magic Box, but they're owned and run by muggles. Not much of a permanent population of us wand wavers, here, cause of the vampires; but there's enough tourism traffic to keep me in business."

Harry nodded in understanding. He'd only been in Sunnydale a few days, and could see the effects the supernatural had on the populace. It could wear down even the toughest of people, magical or muggle.

Harry gestured toward the fireplace. "Does that do international floo calls?"

"Only between the hours of ten p.m. and three a.m. You want to sign up for a timeslot?"

"Yeah," Harry said, setting a Galleon on the bar. "Got some people back home I need to let know my mailing address for the next few weeks."

* * *

**Sunnydale High – Library**

"Geez, Giles, can't you like anything normal," complained Cordelia to the older librarian.

"I'm trying to determine how it rose from the grave," Giles groaned bitterly. "It's not like I'm going to take it home and offer it a saucer of warm milk."

Oz continued examining the undead cat with his usual focused, stoic gaze. "I like it. I think we should call it Patches."

Giles always thought to himself that Oz's Zen acceptance of the paranormal was either the healthiest view he had ever seen, or possibly the most unnerving. The only sure thing was that he was a good counterbalance to the excitable redhead currently flipping through reference books.

"What about Buffy's party, tonight," Willow asked aloud. "I told her mom we'd help out. Bring stuff."

Cordelia, flipping through her own reference book, replied, "I'm the dip."

The assembled Scoobies paused a moment at that. The perfect opportunity for Xander's patented wit. "You gotta admire the purity of it," he offered quickly.

"What? Onion dip? Stirring, not cooking, and easy to make. That's what I bring," Cordelia explained.

Oz sat back in his seat, partially because he had slated his curiosity about the smell of the zombie cat before him. "We should determine what kind of deal this is. Is it a gathering, a shindig, or a hootenanny?"

Giles, Willow, and Xander merely gave Oz a curious glance. Cordelia was the one to ask: "What's the difference?"

"Well, a gathering is brie and mellow song styling's. Shindig: dip," this got a smile from Cordelia, "slightly less mellow song styling's; possibly a large amount of malt beverage. And a hootenanny? Chock full of 'hoot,' with just a little bit of 'nanny.'"

Xander quietly scoffed. "Well, I hate brie."

"I know. It smells like Giles' cat," Cordelia added derisively.

"It's not my cat."

"And what would we discuss at a gathering, anyway?" Xander continued, his voice building in bitterness. "'So, Buffy, meet any nice pimps on your travels? Oh, by-the-by, thanks for ruining our lives for the past three months.'"

Xander would have seen the shock on everyone's faces had he not been staring at the undead cat in a cage.

"Xander?" Willow muttered, getting his attention.

"I know, I know," Xander backpedaled. "She doesn't want to talk about, we don't want to talk about, 'so why don't we shut up, and dance?'"

"Buffy did say she wanted to let loose a little." Willow brightened with an idea. "Hey, Oz, you guys are rehearsing tonight; why don't you guys play the party?"

Oz nodded. "Yeah. I think I could supply some Dingo action."

Giles' reticence was clear on his face, "I'm not sure a…shindig—"

"Hootenanny," interjected Oz.

"Hootenanny…" Giles could not believe that word was passing his lips, "is the order of the evening. From what Joyce informed me, it's meant to be more intimate. Us, a friend of Joyce's, and someone named Harry."

Willow was perplexed by this last bit of information. "Harry? Who's that?"

"Probably one of the nicer pimps," Xander tossed out.

Giles glared at Xander. "From what Joyce said, we have him partially to thank for Buffy's return."

"Well, all the more reason, then," Willow exclaimed. "Nothing like a party to say 'welcome home, Buffy,' and 'thank you, Harry.'"

Xander slapped Giles on the back, unwittingly distracting him from the next page of the book in front of him, featuring a drawing of what would have been a familiar looking mask. "That's one vote for 'boring, bad-smelling cheese night.' Who all votes for actual, fun?"

The teenagers in the room all raised their hands. Cordelia even raised both of hers.

"Alright," Giles sighed, before blindly turning a page. "I'm clearly outvoted."

* * *

**Sunnydale – Cinnebar Street**

Harry walked along the sidewalk, taking in the brisk evening air. He had decided to swing by the Silver Dragon, after pricing out some of the nicer hotels, and pick up a bottle of wine for the evening. The bottle was currently shrunk down and in his mokeskin pouch.

His journey was also delayed by the flashing police lights, and crime-scene tape, ahead of him. There were a few gawking bystanders taking in the sight of the investigators securing the scene around the man sprawled out on the ground. Harry bowed his head momentarily in silent respect of the unknown deceased. His vigil was ended when he heard collected gasps, and the sounds of struggle.

When he looked up, the man who was sprawled on the ground moments ago was now tearing his way past the investigators. Those who tried to stop him were thrown violently out of the way.

Harry rolled his eyes skyward. _'One night. Was that too much to ask?'_

Harry scanned the crowd to make sure no one was paying any particular attention to him as he slipped away from the crowd. He'd have to circle around to make sure no one saw him. He just hoped he'd be able to catch up to the animated corpse before it was too late.

* * *

**Giles' Car**

Giles pushed his car as much as he could. He had found the cause of the undead cat currently raising hell, and a stink, in his office. He had also found the depiction of the cause, hence his grumbling.

"Honestly. 'Do you like my mask? Don't you think it's pretty? It raises the dead.'" Giles could only think of one word to explain this. "Americans."

Giles was distracted enough in his ramblings to not notice the form that was in the middle of the street until it was too late. With a squeal of tires, his car made impact with the body. Momentarily rolling it onto his hood, before throwing it forward.

"Oh, good God." Giles had unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out of the car before he heard another voice.

"Get back in the car!" shouted the dark-haired youth with a familiar accent. "It was already dead!"

"What," Giles was able to ask before the partially decayed corpse started getting back up. "Oh."

In no time at all, the young man had pulled his wand and cast an Incendio at the corpse. Giles flinched when it went up in flames, falling to the ground once more. He quickly pulled himself together and looked at what he now knew was a young wizard.

"Good thing you were tracking it," Giles offered his hand. "Rupert Giles, at your service."

"Harry Potter. Sad to say that wasn't the inferi I was trying to track down."

"Harry…" Giles muttered in surprise under his breath. The groaning of several more zombies coming their way interrupted them.

"Although," Harry continued, "the one I was tracking might be one of those." He cast another two incendios before Giles grasped his shoulder.

"We have to get to the source of them. Come on!" Giles dragged Harry to the car.

Once the doors were shut, and the car on its way, Harry turned to Giles. "What's the source of the inferi?"

"They're not inferi, they're zombies."

"What's the difference?"

"Zombies, you only have to cut off the head."

"Good to know. Where are we going?"

"1630 Revello Drive."

Harry stared at Giles aghast. "Buffy's house?"

It was Giles' turn to be aghast, although he couldn't gape at Harry quite as long. "You're Buffy's Harry?"

Realization dawned on Harry's face. "Oh, you're her Watcher, aren't you? Pleased to meet you. Now, tell me what you know."

* * *

**Buffy's House**

Giles' car came to a sudden halt out front of Buffy's house. The Watcher and the Wizard jumped out of their respective doors. From the damage to the front door and windows, they knew they were too late to warn the occupants of the danger.

"You go in and get the mask, I'll stay out here in case more of them show up," Harry shouted to Giles.

'_Ginny is just going to love this,'_ Harry thought sarcastically to himself as Giles hurried inside. _'Hermione's going to be pissed, too. She might even try swearing.'_

Harry was checking the perimeter of the house when he heard the telltale crash of glass and the sound of a body hitting the ground. He was quickly rounding the corner to the back yard when he saw what appeared to be a woman in a mask hitting a young man with a flash of light. All Harry could see happen to the young man was him freezing in trance-like state. Harry decided to take the opportunity provided.

"Diffindo," he shouted, casting the severing charm. Worry quickly hit him when he saw the woman raise a hand, blocking the curse. "Definitely more than a zombie."

At this point, Harry saw Buffy rise up, a shovel in hand. "Hey, Pat." As the woman turned, Buffy stabbed the shovel into her eyes. "Made you look."

The woman stumbled back, and in a flash, was gone. The young man, still in the door, called out. "Never mind."

Buffy smiled at Harry, waving him over. "Harry, I'd like you to meet Oz. Oz, this is Harry."

The two men shook hands as Buffy guided them inside. "Did I see correctly, that you shot a spell at Pat?"

Harry looked at the wand that was still in his hand. _'Well, I was going to tell Buffy's friends anyway.'_ "Yeah. You saw right."

Buffy went to Joyce as she entered the front room and hugged her. Harry saw there was a dark-haired couple next to Giles, and a redhead moving toward Buffy.

"Was this a normal day at the office for you," Joyce quipped.

"No. This was nothing," Buffy replied. She quickly hugged Willow before noticing the awkward expression on Harry's face.

"Guys," Buffy said as she stepped back from Willow, "this is Harry. Harry, you've met my mom and Oz, this is Willow, Xander, Cordelia, and Giles."

"Oh, I already met Giles, he drove me over here," Harry explained. "It's a bit of a story, I'll tell you more when I'm done cleaning up."

"Harry," Joyce said, "you don't have to—" her protest was silenced when Harry waved his wand around the room, causing the broken glass, furniture, and torn fabrics to mend themselves. In less than a minute, the front room looked like it was just set up for the party. Joyce, Xander, Cordelia, and Willow were in a stunned silence. Oz was in his usual silence, and Giles and Buffy were both holding back their laughter at everyone's faces.

"How-how did you do that?" Xander managed to spit out.

"Can you teach me to do that?" Willow excitedly asked.

"What the hell are you?" Cordelia shouted in a confused, angry tone.

"He's a wizard," Giles said, matter-of-factly. "Do you prefer 'Boy-Who-Lived,' or 'Man-Who-Conquered'?"

Harry smirked at Giles' question. "I prefer just 'Harry.'"

"Where can I get one of those?" Willow asked, more excited than before.

* * *

**August 25, 1998. The Burrow**

Ginny Weasley was not happy. Her boyfriend was an ocean away, he was still rushing in to save people, and for some Godforsaken reason, he thought he could drop a huge bomb on them in a postscript. _Did you know demons were real?_ Those words had created a virtual firestorm amongst the Weasleys.

Molly demanded that Arthur find out what he could from the Ministry, but that just resulted in an uncomfortable conversation with an Unspeakable, according to the Weasley patriarch. Hermione, and by extension Ron and Ginny, had started researching what they could find, which wasn't much. Ron had quit by lunch, Ginny by dinner, and Hermione only quit when Molly chased her off to bed.

It was for these grievances that Ginny had gotten started early this morning on a letter that she felt destined to be her first howler. Before she could really hit her stride on the third draft, the fireplace flared to life.

"Hello," Harry's voice called out. "Is anyone there?"

Ginny turned slowly in her seat. _'Oh good.'_ Ginny thought to herself. _'I can save the owl a trip.'_

Ginny kneeled in front of the fireplace. "Hi, Harry," she said in her most insincerely sweet voice. A fact that was not lost on Harry, judging by his nervous expression.

"Hey, Ginny. I take it you guys got my letter?" A nod of her head, and a predatory smile was the only response Harry got. "Is there anyone else in the house?"

"Don't worry, Harry. They'll be down to join us soon enough." Ginny then took a deep breath and started an angry tirade that soon drew Molly and Hermione downstairs.

Hermione and Molly voicing their opinions on the matter drew George downstairs. The reactions of the Weasley females and Hermione to Harry's tale of excitement with the zombies, just hours ago, was loud enough to even get Ron out of bed before 8 a.m.

**End Chapter 5**

* * *

**A/N: **_Sorry for the delay. I lost a few days due to outside forces_ _(Curse you, job, family, and friends!)_

_The update schedule may be changed to every other week, especially if I go for a chapter equaling the events of an episode. I get the feeling they're going to grow longer the more I start to deviate from canon._

_As always, please review, and let me know what you think._

_Next chapter: _Hope, Faith and Magic Tricks.


	6. Chapter 6 - Hope, Faith & Magic Tricks

**A Year Abroad**

**Chapter 6 – Hope, Faith, and Magic Tricks - part 1**

**A/N:**_ I've had some questions about when the Harry/Buffy relationship is going to happen, and I feel like I should explain. The dynamic I had intended when I listed those two in the description was that the events of the story were going to focus on those two (as they were the main characters of their respective franchises) and the _**emotional**_ intimacy they would develop; not necessarily because I was planning to ship the two of them. Besides, if I tried to pair the two of them, I'd have to write a Buffy-Angel-Harry love triangle, and that would just get so awkward. 'Buffy must choose between the dark-haired, brooding Brit, and the dark-haired, brooding Irishman' is not something I want to write._

_I have also gotten requests and questions about The Silver Dragon. I will definitely be going into more depth about its history in Sunnydale, and what all goes on there. I want the story to grow as organically as I can manage, and it will be an important location. As for anyone wanting a good mental image of the interior of the Silver Dragon, think along the lines of Cheers._

**August 31, 1998 – Across the street from Sunnydale High**

Harry couldn't help but smile as he smoothed out the large blanket as best he could on the grassy field. He had really enjoyed the last few days, making small day trips to various spots around the western United States. Just the day before, he was able to visit most of the tourist sites in the Black Hills, and still be back for dinner at Buffy's house. Though he loathed traveling by portkey, and long-distance apparition was never any fun, he found himself getting better at stepping out of a floo. At least, he was no longer landing flat on his ass. His mood had certainly recovered from his call home last week.

The general consensus of all his friends' lecturing was that they were upset that Harry was once more getting himself into trouble, when his stated goal of his trip was to unwind and get away from excitement. They were also displeased he would be so flippant about the existence of demons. Molly wanted him to come home, scared about what sort of creatures were now likely to threaten Harry's well-being. Hermione and Ginny shared this opinion, and Harry was only able to appease all of them by promising daily letters, and floo calls at least once a week. Hermione also wanted Harry to send her a list, if not copies, of whatever demonology texts he could find.

Buffy had been a great help to him after the haranguing he received from his friends back home. She also needed a way to lift her spirits, and jumped at the chance to share some of her favorite pastimes with him; introducing him to the wonder of iced mocha lattes, and trips to the mall. He suspected the reason for the latter was that he would shrink down her more questionable purchases to get past her mom. She had also taken him out on patrol one night, but he wasn't planning on mentioning that in his letters.

When not spending time with Buffy, or 'doing the tourist thing,' Harry had been looking at apartments to rent short-term. While he was glad that the oft-overlooked mortality rate of Sunnydale kept rents low, it also made most renting agencies ask for six months in advance. That was something Harry, as much as he was enjoying his time in Sunnydale, was unsure of; how long he intended to stay.

Harry could not have explained why, if someone was to ask, but he felt he as though Sunnydale was where he needed to be at the moment. The nearest he could equate the feeling to was the night he took the Felix Felicis potion, and knew he had to head to Hagrid's.

Harry was pulled out of his thoughts as he saw Buffy's friends approaching. He chuckled to himself when the two couples simultaneously released their hands from each other and put some space between them.

'_Trying too hard, guys,'_ he thought amusedly.

Buffy had given him the rundown of what happened between her and Angel on the bus ride to Sunnydale. He was sympathetic to what she had been through, but a part of him sensed there was something she was holding back. Some pain that still lingered. He recognized the signs because he had seen them in the mirror everyday.

"Buffy, banned from campus, but not from our hearts," Xander called out. "How are you? And what's for lunch?"

"Oh, I just threw a few things together," Buffy stated modestly.

Cordelia took in the spread laid out before them. "When did you become Martha Stewart?"

"First of all, Martha Stewart knows jack about fresh cut Prosciutto."

"Yeah. Buffy was like magic," Harry quipped, earning a glare from Buffy. Truth be told, she had prepped the food, he had just cast a few charms to make more helpings, and keep it fresh.

Xander swallowed a bite he had taken from one of the Tupperware containers. "I don't believe Martha Stewart can slay, either."

"Oh, I hear she can," Oz interjected, "but she doesn't like to."

"Second of all," Buffy paused, opening a bottle of water, "I've had loads of free time since getting kicked out of school."

Willow gently patted Buffy on the shoulder. "I'm sure they'll let you back in."

"Don't you and your mom have a meeting with Snyder?" Xander asked.

"Tomorrow," Buffy sighed.

"You know, I could throw a couple of hexes his way," Harry offered. "Like the jelly-leg curse. He won't be able to stand, let alone walk."

"Wouldn't you get in trouble for that," Willow asked worriedly.

"Only if I'm caught," Harry commented half-seriously.

"I appreciate the offer," Buffy said to Harry. "But, I just want to get my life back. Do normal stuff. Like go to school, with my friends, and save the world from unspeakable demons. You know, girlie stuff?"

"Well, on that note," Harry said, pulling out a red leather photo album, "Anybody want to see pictures from back home?"

The Scoobies immediately perked up at the prospect of learning more about Harry and the Wizarding World, especially Willow. When Harry opened the album, Cordelia was the first one to speak.

"Um… Do all your pictures move?"

Harry chuckled to himself. "There are a few muggle photos in here, but for the most part, yeah."

"So, how do the photos work? Is it like, it actually captures the moment? Does it duplicate them on a small scale? Ooh! Or, do the photos act as like a portal, and we're actually seeing into that moment of time. Of course, the fact they're looking out at us may suggest they're sentient about the fact their just a photograph…" Willow looked over to Oz in mock annoyance, "You're supposed to stop me when I do that."

Oz grinned at his socially awkward girlfriend. "I like when you do that."

Harry fought valiantly to suppress his laughter. _'It's like I'm seeing what Ron and Hermione's daughter would be like,' _he thought to himself, before losing the fight, and letting out a laugh.

The first page of the album had one of Harry's favorite photos of his parents. The day they got engaged, dancing in front of a fountain, with autumn leaves falling around them, forever smiling.

"They look so happy," Willow uttered.

Buffy looked up at Harry, looking very closely at Harry. "You have your mother's eyes."

Harry could not hold back the smile. He never tired of people making that comment. It comforted him that people could recognize his mother in him.

He flipped through the next few pages, filling the Scoobies in on the Marauders, and their mischievous ways in school. Followed by photos of Harry in his quidditch gear, next to the rest of the Gryffindor team.

"Harry, I didn't know you were a jock," Xander teasingly said.

"I don't know about 'jock,' I was the Seeker. My job was to catch a flying, golden ball," Harry explained aloud.

"Brooms! You guys played sports on brooms?" Willow exclaimed.

"Those are hideous uniforms," Cordelia offered in her unique way.

"Provided good protection when you fell twenty feet off a broom," Harry laughed as he recalled some of his own tumbles on the field.

The next picture was one of Harry, Hermione, and Ron in full Hogwarts robes from their fifth year. This was the only picture of Colin's he asked the Creevey's if he could keep.

"Ooh. Are these your Willow and Xander," Buffy chimed in, nudging Harry with her elbow.

"Yeah. That's Hermione and Ron. My best mates since I was eleven." Harry pointed to each of them as he filled in the gathered group. "Hermione is the smartest person I know, and can be quite scary at times. Ron was my first friend- at Hogwarts. He was really good at keeping me grounded; treating me like an average bloke. He's been like a brother to me, even when he's been pretty thick."

Cordelia snorted aloud. "Wow. He really **is** your Xander."

"Hey," Xander gasped in mock hurt.

Oz glanced at his watch as he saw some of the other students heading back into the building. "Sorry, Buffy, but we gotta head back inside."

Buffy and Willow's faces wore matching grimaces at the end of their time together. The two girls hugged each other warmly, exchanging farewells. Harry was packing the leftovers away as Xander and Oz disposed of the refuse in the nearby garbage can. Cordelia, in her typical fashion, supervised.

"We'll see you tonight, Buff," Xander said giving Buffy his own hug before heading back to class.

Harry had ulterior motives in bringing the photo album with him today. He knew, in less than twelve hours, his friends would be waking, and heading off to their respective schools… without him. He figured he could sate his new friends' curiosity and talk about his old friends at the same time.

Buffy released a proverbial breath she had been holding from the moment the album had come out. Harry had only shared the briefest of details about his past with her friends. She had worried one of them would ask a question that would bring up the fact that a lot of the people smiling in those pictures were no longer counted among the living. She worried, not because she thought Harry couldn't handle telling them, but because she knew the last thing he wanted was pity.

"Got any exciting plans for today," Buffy asked, gathering the last of the Tupperware.

"I was going to look at a few more places for rent, then drop in at the Silver Dragon to call home."

"Ah. Your required check-in." Buffy smirked at the glare Harry sent her way for that jibe.

"For that," Harry grumbled, rising to his feet, "you can carry everything home yourself." Harry punctuated his statement with a raspberry to let Buffy know it was all in good fun.

**Sunnydale Motel**

Harry flicked the light on in the small, dingy motel room. He had swung by to drop off his photo album before going to the first apartment of the day. He grabbed his bag from the closet and set it on the lumpy mattress. When he opened the top flap, ready to return the album, a glint of light caught his eye.

He reached in and pulled out the item that had reflected some light into Harry's eye: a set of crystal phials in a rack. Five of the phials were empty, but one full one remained. The purple potion inside of it was one Harry had not thought of in over a week; he hadn't really needed since it meeting Buffy. The nightmares hadn't been as bad, lately; he could actually make it through the night without jerking himself awake. But Harry figured there was no harm getting a refill of Dreamless Sleep potion soon.

A knock on the door brought Harry out of his reverie. He knew the daylight precluded the caller being a vampire, but Harry had his hand on his wand, just in case.

His posture relaxed as he took in the brunette on the other side of the door. She had a wild head of long, wavy hair. She was wearing a sleeveless tee, which showed off a tattoo on her right arm, a pair of leather pants (which Harry thought ill-advised given the weather) and a pair of boots. Her makeup was bordering on heavy around the eyes, but it worked for her. Harry's only negative thought came with a mental shudder when he equated her looks to a young Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Hey, I just checked-in next door. Long shot, but do you have an ice bucket?"

Harry thought for a second. "This place has an ice machine," he asked the mysterious brunette.

"Damn, didn't even think to check," she muttered, slapping the doorframe. Harry stood there as the brunette let her eyes take a good look at Harry. He would be the first to acknowledge he didn't understand much about women, but his experiences in sixth year with Romilda Vane at least made him aware of when someone was checking him out. "The name's Faith," she said flirtatiously, offering her hand.

Harry shook her hand gently. "Harry. Pleased to meet you."

"Man, with that accent, and that wicked scar, you must really clean up with the ladies." A cocky smirk crossed Faith's lips, and a predatory gleam was in her eye.

"Not really," Harry blushed. "Pretty girls tend to be my Achilles' heel."

Faith's smirk seemed to grow more pronounced. "Maybe I could help you out with that?"

Harry's eyes grew wide as alarms started going off in his head. "A-Actually, I was just going… I was… I've got a couple errands to run." He awkwardly stepped out past the wild looking brunette, closing the door behind him. He couldn't recall if he had the key with him, but that's what Alohomora was for, wasn't it?

"Maybe we can talk more another time?" He offhandedly offered.

"Sure," she said, taking the three steps to her door. "You know where to find me."

Harry attempted, and was certain he failed, to nonchalantly leave the balcony of the Sunnydale Motel. Strong was definitely a word he'd be attributing to his new neighbor.

**The Silver Dragon**

Harry glanced at the clock as he entered the bar, finding it was ten minutes until midnight.

"Has it been three days, already," Gil jokingly asked upon seeing Harry's entrance.

"Gil, don't you get any sleep?" Harry settled down onto a stool in front of the barman.

"I'm a night owl. It also helps I have someone else to cover opening shift." Gil opened a Butterbeer, setting in front of Harry.

Harry looked around at the other patrons seated around the bar at this hour. There was a witch that appeared to be in her late-thirties, her hair in a tight bun and wearing what Harry assumed was her work clothes; she looked like she had just come from an office, and was enjoying a glass of wine. There was an elderly wizard that could have been mistaken for Merlin, if he wasn't wearing a crimson polo and cargo shorts, sipping on a margarita. Next to the casual wear Merlin, a heavy-set wizard in a worn looking muggle suit, finishing the last of a tall mug of beer. There were a few other patrons, but Harry was confident he was the youngest person in the establishment.

"Gil," Harry asked, "just out of curiosity, how come I haven't seen any Aurors, at least uniformed ones, around town? I know what you said about the low permanent population, but I would think with all the tourists, there'd be a magical constable, or something on standby."

Gil finished cleaning a wine glass before turning to respond. "We used to have one, but he was able to semi-retire when the Slayer showed up."

"You guys know about the Slayer?"

Gil chuckled. "Kind of hard not to notice a muggle girl patrolling the graveyards, and investigating the demon attacks around town. And while the statue-of-secrecy isn't quite as strictly enforced on Hellmouths as they are elsewhere, the townsfolk kind of agreed to let the Slayer take point on enforcement. Especially after she took care of that nasty piece of work, Madison, two years ago."

Harry remembered the details Buffy had given about that incident. Two years ago, a non-wand witch swapped bodies with her daughter and tried to kill her way on to the cheerleading squad. Buffy used a mirror to bounce a spell back on the mother, and she hadn't been seen since.

"Hold on, you said the statute-of-secrecy wasn't strictly enforced on Hellmouths?"

"Well, the monitoring charms used for detecting accidental magic can't tell the difference between a spell cast by a wizard, a wicca, or a demon. If they deployed those around a Hellmouth, the alarms would never stop ringing."

Harry nodded in understanding. "And I imagine non-wand magic doesn't technically fall under their jurisdiction?"

Gil tapped a finger on the tip of his nose.

"So, it's kind of the Wild West, here, then?"

"With the Slayer acting as town Marshall," Gil confirmed, opening a butterbeer for himself. "Happy days."

Gil clinked his bottle against Harry's before taking a deep chug.

**September 1, 1998. The Burrow**

Hermione sat in the living room of the Burrow, flanked on either side by a member of the Weasley family. To her left, Ginny was fuming, her gaze never leaving the fireplace. On her right, Ron was slowly but surely making his way through a bowl of Fruit Loops. She had to chuckle at the fact that, of all the bits of Muggle culture she had introduced to Ron, breakfast cereals had been the bit he had taken to quickest.

The sound of his spoon clinking against the bowl, and the crunch of his chewing of the cereal, joined the ticking of the clock on the mantle, and Ginny drumming her fingers on her packed trunk as the only noise in the room. They were all sitting in silence for Harry's promised floo call.

"Five galleons he's stumbled across someone wanting to destroy the world," Ron tossed out between mouthfuls of cereal.

"That's a sucker's bet, Ronald," Hermione retorted, a grin forming at the corner of her lips.

Ginny's expression remained as stern and angry has it had been before. "He should be here, with us."

Hermione did agree with Ginny, for the most part. Harry should be there with all of them. The last few months had been hard for all of them, and the only way she had been able to carry on was with everyone's support. Harry had always been stubborn, and usually bottled everything up, so she was hopeful that getting away from Magical Britain would put things in perspective for Harry; allow him to find some kind of peace. Instead, he stumbled upon another war in the shadows, and seemed prepared to start the same cycle over again.

It was at that moment that the fire flared green, and the face of their topic of conversation appeared.

"Hi, guys," exclaimed Harry. "Glad you're already up. How have the last few days been treating you?"

Ginny's expression softened as she kneeled down closer to the fire. Hermione and Ron joined her, once Ron set his bowl down.

"We've been alright," Ginny stated calmly. "We're going to head for King's Cross as soon as we're done. Ron has to report for Auror training before the Express leaves."

Harry's floating head nodded. "Give them hell, Ron."

"You know it, mate," chuckled Ron.

"Have you been keeping safe, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, I've been keeping my head down. No demons, just tourists. Take you pick which one is more frightening."

Ginny was the only one who did not join in the laughter. She was struggling to keep a veneer of calm, when all she wanted to do was scream, or cry, or both.

"Are you coming home, soon?"

Harry looked over at Ginny. It was clear to Hermione he was struggling to pick his words carefully.

"There's still some information I'm hoping to find. I hope to have that before Halloween," Harry paused at this. "We are still on for Halloween, right?"

"Of course we are, Harry," Hermione stated with finality. "We'll be there for you, no matter what."

Harry nodded again with a relieved smile on his face. Ron took the opportunity to jump in.

"Just so Hermione doesn't have to ask; come across any more interesting books, yet?" Hermione slapped Ron's shoulder, but did not retract the question.

"If all goes well, I'll get to see some of Mr. Giles' collection tomorrow."

"Mr. Giles?" Hermione asked. "That's Buffy's Watcher, right?"

"The one who knew about you being called Boy-Who-Lived, and all that?" Ron followed up.

"That's the one. Of course, the fact they've had to deal with magic users before, doesn't surprise me he's aware of the Wizarding World."

"Might be a good idea to find out how much he knows," suggested Ron. "Give us a good idea how much attention these Watchers are giving us."

Harry, Hermione, and Ginny all looked at Ron like he had grown a second head.

"What? I can't think like an Auror?" Ron demanded of the surprised group.

"Sorry," Harry said, shaking off his surprise. "I'll ask him, but the Scoobies assure me Giles is a pretty stand-up guy."

"'Scoobies'," Ginny asked aloud.

"That's what Buffy's friends call themselves." Harry's explanation got a chuckle out of Hermione.

The blank expressions on the Weasleys' faces made her elaborate for them.

"It's from a Muggle cartoon show called 'Scooby-Doo.' It's about a bunch of teenage detectives and their dog driving around, solving mysteries."

Ron merely nodded, feigning understanding. Ginny took a deep breath.

"I'm going to double-check my room before we go. Take care, Harry. Be safe. Come home soon."

"I promise, Ginny," Harry said solemnly.

Once Ginny left the room, Ron rose to follow her. "I'll check on her. Talk to you later, mate. "

"Thanks. Talk to you later, Ron," Harry shouted from the floo.

Hermione watched the Weasley siblings retreat up the stairs before leaning closer to the floo. "Harry, I don't want to pry, but how are your…prescriptions holding up?"

Harry actually grinned at this question. "Haven't had to take a dose since I got to Sunnydale. Still got one left."

Hermione was thankful that Harry was at least able to get some natural sleep, again.

"I'm glad," Hermione stated.

Harry turned nervously toward the stairs Ginny had gone up. "At least she didn't scream this time."

"She's worried," Hermione countered.

"You're not screaming."

"I resigned myself to the fact you do things like this, long ago," Hermione said haughtily. Her smirk let Harry know she was joking.

Hermione asked a question that had been on her mind since Harry said something earlier.

"Harry, what's this information you're looking for?"

Harry hesitated in his answer. "Something that might help us both out."

"Which is?"

Harry let out a long sigh. "If there's a way to live in both the Wizarding and the Muggle worlds."

**A/N:**_ Okay, I'm a liar. This is going to be split into at least two parts. I'm trying to get through the events of this episode since pretty much as soon as Faith joins the group, we're going to take a sharp left in terms of Season 3 canon._

_I promise all chapters, from here on, will be no shorter than 3,000 words (baring any announcements I may post). There are some really good scenes I can't wait to get to, and my impatience is making it a bit of an uphill battle to get through the scenes between._

_Any and all constructive notes are appreciated. Thank you._


	7. Chapter 7 - Hope, Faith & Magic Tricks 2

**A Year Abroad**

**Chapter 07 – Hope, Faith & Magic Trick part 2**

**A/N: **_This is where most authors make some joke about how they clearly don't own the Harry Potter or Buffy franchises. I am feeling a bit lazy, so write your own joke here._

* * *

**September 1, 1998 – Hogwarts Great Hall**

'_How did Harry ever put up with this?'_ thought Hermione, taking in the "subtle" glances and obvious stares some of the students were sending her way. The first years acting this way, she could stomach, but so many of the others had spent at least a year with her in the castle.

Logically, Hermione knew being the only member of Hogwarts' "Golden Trio" returning to the school was going to make her stand out, but she was still shocked when the first student had approached her for an autograph. However, the bizarre new status quo did not end with her being center of attention. Of the thirty first-years starting lessons at Hogwarts, only three had been sorted into Slytherin; and all of three of them looked utterly crestfallen about that. The fact that no Slytherin students stood with the defenders during the Second Battle of Hogwarts was well known by everyone. Hermione could only hope the Slytherins' new infamy would lead to a reformation of that house, as opposed to making the situation worse. Professor Slughorn had quite the uphill battle ahead of himself.

Hermione looked around the Great Hall, seeking familiar faces. Over at the Ravenclaw table, Luna was her typical self; staring dreamily off into space, but still paying attention to the conversations around her. The looks of admiration and respect Luna was receiving from her housemates let Hermione know Luna would not have to put up with her items going missing from the dorm ever again.

At the Head Table, Hagrid was in a lively conversation with a stern looking, blonde-haired, male professor that Hermione could only guess was the new defense teacher. A smirk appeared on her face as she wondered if Voldemort's demise would mean the one-year curse on the position would prove lifted.

At the opposite end of the table, Hermione was pleasantly surprised to see Trelawny politely conversing with Firenze. Sybil had certainly turned herself around since the battle, learning she had been the one to make the prophecy regarding Voldemort and Harry had given her a confidence she had sorely lacked for years that allowed her to no longer view the Centaurs' methods as a threat.

Hermione's eyes finally settled on the seat across from her, and the simmering pot of indignation that was Ginny Weasley. Hermione assumed that Ginny was still thinking about Harry; otherwise, the chicken on her plate had somehow wronged the girl personally.

"Ginny? What's wrong?" Hermione knew it was a stupid question without the glare Ginny was now shooting her, but needed to get her talking.

"He's not coming back," Ginny said softly, barely audible over the din of the Great Hall.

"Of course he's coming back. He'll see us all on Halloween. You heard him."

Ginny unceremoniously let her fork drop to the table. "That's not what I mean." Ginny squirmed at her next thought. "He's going to leave…us."

"I don't see that happening."

"Since he's left, he's only gone to muggle cities. He's only stayed at muggle hotels. And except for shopkeepers and bartenders, all of the people he's interacted with have been muggles. He's going to leave us." Ginny had delivered that last sentence in a whisper, noticing she was drawing attention.

Hermione was in a tough position. Ginny was partially right, especially considering what Harry had told her this morning, but the last thing she needed was for Ginny to get hysterical. _'Do I betray Harry's trust and tell her, or do I betray her trust and lie?'_ Hermione thought to herself.

"Ginny, it's possible you're misreading things," Hermione had decided to hedge her bets. "He said he wanted to travel incognito. All of those muggle cities he's gone to have all had magical sections of town. He's stayed at muggle hotels because he can make his money stretch further using muggle currency. And as you know, even trying to avoid his fame, he's stumbled upon muggles who are aware of who he is."

Ginny's expression had softened to some degree, but Hermione saw some of the Weasley temper still remained.

"He's sticking around for those 'Scoobies,'" Ginny pouted. "I thought after the war, the last thing he'd want to do is fight monsters."

"You forget, Ginny, his plan is to enter the Auror academy when he comes back. There will be plenty of dangers he'll have to face in that job, too." Hermione saw Ginny pause at that comment, and decided to put a more light-hearted finish to her argument. "Besides, he still has that 'saving people thing' of his." Hermione chuckled at the grin that managed to escape onto Ginny's face. "How could he pass up a whole town needing saving?"

Further laughter was prevented as the stern-faced Minerva McGonagall stepped to the podium in front of the Staff table, and called on the students' attention.

"Welcome, new students. And to returning students, welcome back…"

* * *

**September 1, 1998 – Sunnydale High – Library**

It had been just over seven years since Harry had last been in a muggle school. He took in the lockers and the vending machines that had been absent from his primary school days, but couldn't help grinning about the things that were universal in any school. There were cliques of friends in the hall, ignoring anyone outside their circle. One or two couples were holding hands, or showing whatever public displays of affection they could get away with. But what was most endearing to him was the pair of friends chatting away as they approached the library.

"It's so cool you're a school-girl again," Willow said as she and Buffy led the way into the library.

"Yeah, Mom and I were able to get past Snyder, I just have a few make up tests, and then all is back to normal."

Willow turned to Harry, continuing her disjointed tour. "This is the library. I don't know how it compares to the one at your magic school, but it's pretty nice. The stacks are back there, and Giles keeps more gruesome items locked up over there," she explained pointing to the various locations.

Harry took in the locked cage on the side of the room. "Seems more secure than the Restricted Section. Madam Pince tried her best, but we'd always find ways past her." Harry grinned at remembering the number of times his cloak had come in handy with late-night research runs.

"Did she ever get so upset that she would start making these weird clucking sounds with her tongue? Giles does this all the time when he's trying to be real British and hold back his emotions. He did it all the time while Buffy was away." It was at this moment that Giles rose up from under the counter, with a bundle of sage and a pestle in his hands.

"Uh, Wills…" Buffy muttered. Willow nervously turned around.

"Oh, hey, Giles. Been there long?" Willow went nervously quiet at the barely suppressed expression of annoyance on Giles' face. Giles' expression softened when he turned his attention to Buffy.

"Buffy, I'm glad you're here." Giles set the items in his hands on the counter before pulling up various powders and implements. "I could use your help on something."

"Sure. What's up?"

"Looks like a ritual of some kind," Harry said, picking up one of the bowls of powder.

"Actually, yes; a binding ritual. Are you familiar with it?"

Harry frowned in consternation before looking back at Giles. "Not really. Most of what we were taught about rituals was identifying them and the basic theory. At least, the classes I took. I have no idea what all Hermione learned in Ancient Runes or Arithmancy."

Harry set down the bowl, only then noticing the blank look on Buffy's face, and the excitement on Willow's.

"Suddenly, my English exam doesn't seem so bad," cracked Buffy.

"Your school sounds so awesome," exclaimed Willow.

Giles shook himself out of his reverie. "Yes, well, anyway… I was going to perform the binding on Acathla to be sure no one could open the portal again. There's a litany one has to perform in Aramaic, very long, very precise. To perform the ritual correctly, I need to get some specific details from you, Buffy."

"Fire away."

"Acathla's portal was opened around 6:15, local time? About thirty minutes after Xander rescued me?"

"Less. More like ten minutes after you left."

Giles made a note on a pad in his hand. "And Acathla was facing South?"

"Yep."

Giles made another note as he moved to look for something in a pile by some drawers. "And when you killed Angel, the portal was already opened?"

Harry's eyebrow went up in curiosity at this. _'That seems an odd question to ask.'_ Harry thought to himself.

"Barely."

"And how exactly were you positioned?"

Buffy tapped three spots in a line. "Me, Angel, Acathla." With her opposite hand, she ran a finger through the last two spots. "Sword. Anything else?"

Giles shook his head, as he set his pad down. "Not at the moment. But do let me know if you think of anything else."

Buffy silently nodded her head, until she spotted the clock. "Oh, man. I got to going, I've got a make up English test to take." She headed toward the exit, turning at the door. "They give you credit just for speaking it, right?"

Harry, Willow, and Giles shared quiet looks of concern, not sure if Buffy was serious.

"Didn't think so," Buffy sighed as she stepped out.

Willow picked the bundle of sage off of the counter. "Mmm, I love the smell of sage." Willow excitedly set down the sage, snatching a twisted looking root from a nearby jar. "And Marnock's Root? You know, a pinch of this, mixed with a virgin's saliva—"

Willow paused when she caught Giles' glower.

"—Does something I am absolutely unfamiliar with." Willow muttered as she returned the root.

'_I don't remember learning anything like that in Potions,'_ thought Harry. _'I would have paid more attention learning stuff like that.'_

"These forces are not something to be messed around with." Giles approached Willow. "What have you been conjuring?"

"Nothing," Willow nervously answered, "…much. There was the spell to cure Angel, which was pretty much a bust. And beyond that, just little stuff; floating feather, fire out of ice. Which, next time, I won't do on the bedspread."

Giles was about to say something, but Harry cut in. "All that without a wand? That's impressive."

Willow smiled at Harry before turning back to Giles. "Are you mad at me?"

Giles released a heavy sigh before speaking. "No, of course not. If I were, I'd be making a strange clucking sound with my tongue."

Willow attempted an innocent expression, before giving up the ghost and looking apologetic. "I better head off to lunch, now. You coming, Harry?"

"I'll catch up. I want to talk to Mr. Giles for a bit."

Willow nodded before walking out the door.

Harry stepped up to the counter across from Giles.

"Harry, you're not a student, and you've saved me, so I think you can call me Giles, like the others."

"For this conversation, I think it might be best if I keep it formal. Speaking to you more as a colleague than a friend."

Giles wiped his glasses before returning them to his face. "You want to know how much I know of the Wizarding world?"

Harry nodded silently.

"From personal experience, not much that I am aware of; though I assume the Council has a wizard or two on speed dial. Before I was sent to Sunnydale, all field agents in Britain were briefed about the approaching war. This summer, I was sent a memo that the war was over."

"That doesn't tell me how you knew so much about me."

Giles grinned slightly. "Then you're either very modest, or you don't realize how much of the briefing was spent on your exploits."

Harry tensed up at the meaning of those words. "How much does your organization know about me?"

Giles patted Harry on the shoulder. "The Watchers' Council was only interested in your world when non-magical civilians were being harmed. From what I gathered, we try not to intervene otherwise."

"So you're not going to pump me for information?"

"I doubt I could if I tried."

Harry smirked as he nodded. "Just wanted to know if you were going to try to wriggle details out of me like you did Buffy."

Giles' face fell as he stepped around the counter. "I'll admit my ruse is a tad thin, but if I try directly to get Buffy to talk about what happened, she will throw up a wall. If she does that, whatever trauma lies underneath will fester and eat further away at her. Simply being back isn't enough to heal her."

Harry could only nod at this. "That's a good reason. In my opinion, don't push any further than you already have. I think I can speak from experience when I say 'no one likes to be manipulated.'"

Harry reached out with his right hand. "Thanks, Giles."

Giles warmly shook Harry's hand. "You're welcome, Harry."

* * *

**Sunnydale Motel**

That evening, Harry sat at the small table inside his room, hunched over a sheet of parchment, finishing his letter to Ginny and Hermione. Once completed, he sealed the letter in an envelope and whistled merrily as he slipped his wand into his pocket on his way out the door…bumping right into Faith.

"Oh, sorry about that," Harry apologized.

"No worries, Scar," Faith replied.

"'Scar'?"

"Don't worry, I give everyone I meet nicknames. It's my thing," Faith said with a grin.

"Uh-huh. Did you ever find the ice machine?"

"Would you believe it's out of order?"

Harry looked up and down the rundown hotel's floor. "Yes. Yes, I would."

It was then Harry noticed Faith's outfit. She was dressed in a top that was sleeveless, in that the sleeves did not connect to the torso, leaving her shoulders bare. There was also an opening in the top, revealing her chest and the slightest hint of cleavage, with only some bangles providing cover. Her usual skin-tight pants and boots combo completed the outfit. Harry was doing his best not to stare, but he recognized an attention-seeking outfit when he saw one.

"Going out?" Harry asked conversationally.

"Yeah, well, a girl's gotta have a night life." Faith looked Harry up-and-down, seeing the envelope in his hands. "Isn't it a little late to be mailing a letter?"

Harry had been somewhat prepared for a question like this; you don't use public owls without coming up with a cover story for curious muggles.

"I use a special courier service. They're open late."

"Cool. When you're done, swing by the Bronze. It's the only decent club in town; not really hard to find."

Harry hesitated in responding to the very alluring, and outgoing brunette. "I just might do that.

Faith lightly ran a hand along Harry's arm. "Don't keep a girl waiting too long, Scar." With a parting wink and a smile, Faith continued on her way toward the stairs. Harry watched her walk away; certain she was putting extra sway in her hips.

It was a few moments before Harry shook himself out of his daze, and smacked the back of his head. "Bad Harry!"

Harry looked around, making sure no one was watching as he spun on the spot and apparated away with a soft crack sound. A sound that a dark haired slayer thought was gum popping.

* * *

**Silver Dragon**

Harry stepped into the welcoming environment of the Silver Dragon. Many of the regulars looked up from their drinks, or whatever they were currently doing, to give a small nod in Harry's direction.

'_I guess I should try to learn some of their names,'_ Harry thought as he waved to the room in general.

Gil stood with his arms crossed on his chest as Harry approached. He held out a hand, palm up, when was in reach. "You know, I may have to get an extra owl, just to keep up with all these letters you're sending."

Harry handed over the envelope. "Well, you can talk to my loved ones then, and ask them to demand fewer updates."

Gil snorted aloud. "After the bits of them on the warpath we all overheard? No thank you. Gilbert Nathaniel Sullivan is no fool."

Harry paused momentarily, thinking about Gil's full name. "Your parents named you 'Gilbert N. Sullivan'?"

Gil frowned and released an exasperated sigh. "My parents thought they were being funny."

"Could be worse; they could have named you Sue." Harry chuckled.

"That's my second-cousin on my mother's side. He's not exactly the happiest member of the Suetio family."

Harry was uncertain how serious Gil was at the moment. "Now you're just having me on."

Gil grimly shook his head. "My aunt Theresa is a huge Phil Collins fan."

Harry rolled his eyes, opting not to take the bait. "I'll just have a butterbeer."

* * *

**The Bronze**

Buffy lowered herself into an overstuffed chair across from a kissing Willow and Oz. Her smile was big enough that when the couple acknowledged her presence, Willow immediately started in on her.

"Are you… Is she glowing?" Willow turned to Oz as Buffy gave a non-committal shrug.

"There's definitely some 'glowy-ness' about her," Oz agreed. "What's the good news, Buffy?"

"I passed my English make up exam," she said, her smile growing wider. "Back in school, at the Bronze, with my friends. 'Hello, my life; how I've missed you.'"

"Is Harry coming by tonight?"

"I told him we'd all be here. It seemed likely he would." Buffy scanned the crowd, in case Harry had already arrived.

Willow grinned as she saw Buffy searching the room. "He's pretty cute, isn't he?"

Buffy's eyes returned to Willow's cheery face. "Yeah, he is. But he's got a girlfriend back home."

"Are you sure that's not just something he made up to impress you? Not a lot of effort to change 'I've got a girlfriend who lives in Canada' to 'lives in England,'" Oz joked.

"I don't think Harry's the kind of guy to play those kinds of games," Buffy responded.

Willow's smile widened a little bit. "Buffy's right. Harry's far too much of a gentleman to do that sort of thing."

Before Buffy could respond to Willow's not-so-subtle hint, Cordelia joined the group with Xander in tow.

"Take a look at Super-Tramp out there, dancing it up with Disco Dave."

Buffy craned her neck to see to whom Cordelia was referring. On the dance floor, she spotted a wavy-haired brunette in skin-tight pants and a dark top with disconnected sleeves and a cleavage revealing top dancing all over a guy who seemed to be a transplant from Saturday Night Fever.

"I don't think his fashion sense has seen the light of day in a long time," Cordelia critiqued aloud.

"I don't think he's seen any sunlight at all in a long time," Buffy said, sensing a bad vibe from the scenario.

Her bad vibe was kicked up a notch when the guy leaned close, whispering something in the brunette's ear. The brunette nodded eagerly, and allowed 'Disco Dave' to lead her toward the exit.

"Oh, crap," Buffy muttered, getting to her feet.

* * *

**Silver Dragon**

Harry set down the empty butter beer bottle and a few sickles.

"Well, I have some friends to meet over at the Bronze. Thanks again for everything, Gil. Though, I'm only going to believe maybe half of the things you say from now on," Harry said jovially.

"That tends to happen, the more people get to know me," the barman replied. "Have a good night, Harry."

"You too. Goodnight, everyone," Harry called out across the bar. A few muttered 'good nights' were offered his way. Before he could reach for the handle, two lights, one red, one blue, lit up next to the door.

"Hold up, Harry," Gil called out. "You might want to wait a moment."

Harry examined the lights before turning back to Gil. "What do the lights mean?"

"Red light is connected to a vampire detecting ward. Picks up when one of them's out in the alleyway. The blue light is the Slayer detecting ward. Should just be a second until…" Gil was halted when the blue light started to blink.

"What's that mean," Harry asked.

"Well, the light goes out when the subject is out of range or dead, but I've never seen the Slayer light blink like—"

Harry didn't hear anymore as he was already rushing out the door, wand in hand.

* * *

**Alley Between Bronze and Silver Dragon**

Harry ran out into the alleyway in time to see Faith throw a vampire against a fence before staking him in the heart. She made her way back toward the waiting Scoobies, brushing dust off her hands.

"Thanks, B, couldn't have it done without you."

"Faith?!" Harry finally spat out.

Faith spun around, dropping into a ready stance before recognition washed over her face. "Hey, Scar."

"Scar?" Buffy asked Harry.

"Oh, hey, Buffy," Harry said bashfully.

Faith looked at the wand in his hand. "I appreciate the offer of backup, Scar, but I don't think that stake could do much damage."

"That's not a stake," Willow said in explanation. "It's a wand. He's a wizard."

"Wizard, huh?" Faith took another appreciative look at Harry. "Wicked."

Harry made a connection with what he was seeing and what the indicator light was doing. "You're a slayer, aren't you? The wards were detecting **two**, that's why it was blinking."

Cordelia looked around the alleyway. "Where did you come from, anyway?"

'_Oh, shit,'_ thought Harry.

* * *

**A/N: **_Okay, I won't bore you with the details, but I had a lot less free time as of late. To make it up to you guys, the final installment of _'Hope, Faith and Magic Tricks' _will be up no later than Thursday. If I'm late again, you all have permission to spam me._

_Thanks again for the comments, everyone. I ask that you have patience in regards to the relationship plots, as this is shaping up to be over 50+ chapters story. The build will be slow, but I expect the final relationship to emerge around the events of Halloween._


	8. Chapter 8 - Hope, Faith & Magic Tricks 3

**A Year Abroad**

**Chapter 08 – Hope, Faith & Magic Tricks part 3**

**A/N: **_I feel like the opening section should be called '__**Mea Culpa.**__' I acknowledge I ended the last chapter on a pretty weak cliff-hanger; I just felt like it was an okay stopping point. To those who have made mention that there hasn't been much deviation from canon yet, my intention was for the course of events to change drastically after 'Hope, Faith & Magic Tricks'. Hell, I've left the Scott Hope storyline in the dustbin._

_As always, my name is neither J.K. Rowling, nor Joss Whedon, so I don't own anything of these franchises, only the storyline that will unfold, and various OC's._

* * *

**Alley Between Bronze and Silver Dragon**

Cordelia looked around the alleyway. "Where did you come from, anyway?"

'_Oh, shit_,' thought Harry. _'Gil will be pissed if I mention the Silver Dragon. And the cloak is in my pouch. Guess that leaves one thing…'_

Harry continued looking bashful as he glanced between the Scoobies and Faith. "Okay. I was holding back on you guys, but I had good reason."

Buffy raised a questioning eyebrow. "Holding back on what?"

"This," Harry said before turning on the spot and vanishing in front of everyone.

Everyone remained shocked still. Finally, after a few drawn out, awkwardly silent seconds, Xander spoke. "Where'd he go?"

"Right behind you." Xander, Willow and Cordelia each let out a scream as they spun around to a smirking Harry.

"Huh," Oz muttered in a tone that those close to him would recognize as his shocked tone.

"You can teleport?" Buffy managed to ask.

"Apparate, is what it's called. Takes a lot of focus, and can be kind of draining depending on number and length of hops." Harry's smile beamed at the amazed expressions on everyone's faces.

"Seems a pretty convenient way to avoid any 'Walk-of-shames' the next morning," Faith said, shooting Harry a flirty wink.

Harry nervously cleared his throat avoiding direct eye contact with anyone for a few seconds. "So… When I heard the fight from around the corner…" Harry shrugged, leaving the rest of the explanation to the Scoobies' imaginations.

Buffy raised her hand slightly to get Harry's attention. "And all wizards can do that?"

"Yep."

"What about into houses? Can you abberate—"

"Apparate," Harry corrected.

"Right. Can you apparate into, say, someone's home?"

"Yes," Harry cautiously answered.

"Without an invite?" Buffy finished.

The eyes of the Scoobies, except for Oz, went wide at the thought of a rogue wizard popping into their houses uninvited.

"Not that I don't trust you, Harry," Willow sputtered. "But, I kind of agree with Buffy's point." Xander and Cordelia nodded desperately in agreement. Harry decided to nip this in the bud, raising his hands calmingly.

"There are anti-apparition wards I can put up around your houses. They will keep wizards from popping in or out."

Cordelia gave an exaggerated sigh of relief to this news.

"Now, how about we all go inside, get comfy, and get to know our newest slayer?"

Faith moved next to Harry, a predatory smile on her face. "Sounds good to me, Scar."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Could you not call me that? It brings back bad memories."

"You got it, Wiz," Faith tossed out, walking back inside the club. Harry paused a moment, suppressing a groan of annoyance.

"You _can_ just call me Harry," he called out after her.

* * *

**The Bronze – Later**

Harry sat with the assembled group in a secluded corner of the Bronze. Faith was the center of attention, regaling the group with a story that put one thought in Harry's head: _'I am not sharing this one with Ginny and Hermione.'_

"So, it's the middle of the worst heat wave ever, right? It's like 118 degrees, and so I am camping out, sleeping without a stitch on. Suddenly, I start to hear screams, so I run out and see a church bus has broken down, and three vamps are chowin' down on half the Baptists in south Boston. I take them out, and the preacher comes up and just gives me this big-ole' hug, and I'm still just buck naked." Faith chuckled, taking a moment to catch her breath. "That's when the cops showed up, and arrested us both."

"Wow," Xander says aloud. "They should film that story, and show it every Christmas."

Cordelia glared at Xander in disgust before turning to Harry. "Are there any spells that can keep him from talking?"

"There's a silencing spell," Harry replied. "But, I don't think even magic could keep him from putting his foot in his mouth."

Faith laughed along with the group (save for Xander) as she leaned down to grab a brownie.

"God, I could eat a horse," Faith stated, before popping a piece of brownie. "Isn't it strange how slaying always makes you hungry and horny?"

Not even Harry could resist turning his attention to Buffy, waiting to hear her response. Buffy fought the urge to blush.

"Well… sometimes I have a craving for a non-fat yogurt afterwards."

Harry held in a laugh as the others decided to let it slide for now.

"I get it!" Cordelia exclaimed. Harry nearly lost it, though, at that. Cordelia caught the stunned expressions on everyone's faces. "Not the horny thing—gross—the two Slayers thing."

Cordelia gestured toward Buffy. "Buffy died for two minutes, which called Kendra. Then when she died, Faith was called."

Harry actually nodded, as Cordelia's explanation made sense.

"What called you to here," Harry asked.

Faith shrugged. "Nothing really. My Watcher went on some retreat, and I thought it'd be a good time to skip. Figured I'd come here, share notes with B."

Harry wasn't quite sure why, but he got the sense there was more to Faith's reason than what she was letting on. _'That answer seemed so…timid.'_

"So, B," Faith continued on, brightening noticeably. "Is it true you once used a rocket launcher?"

Buffy grinned at having a story that could impress Faith. "Well, yeah. Bit of a funny story; it was actually Xander's idea. The books said that the Judge-this big, ugly demon that could burn the soul out of you with a touch-could not be beaten by a weapon forged by man. Xander got us into an army base, then we blew up the judge before he could kill a mall full of civilians."

Harry's mouth was agape. "You didn't mention the 'burning the soul out of someone' bit before. I think that might top my escape from Goblins on the back of a dragon story."

Faith grinned while shaking her head. "Damn! I'm feeling out of my league here."

"Join the club," Xander responded sarcastically.

"So, H.P.," Faith said, breaking Harry and Buffy out of their side conversation.

'_At least she's not calling me 'Scar' anymore,'_ Harry thought wearily to himself.

"What was your hardest slay?" Faith finished asking.

Visions of a demolished Great Hall, and a crowd surrounding Harry and Voldemort as they circled each other, entered Harry's mind. A flash as green impacted red, then people cheering as Voldemort fell. But past the crowds, accusing in their silence, the bodies of Lupin, Tonks, Fred, and so many others.

"What," Harry asked, still in a daze.

"Well, B's got the Judge, I got the vamp with the pet Alligators; what slay was toughest for you?"

"I guess Lord Voldemort," Harry hesitantly answered. "I mostly fought to wound or capture the other wizards."

Before Harry could elaborate, Cordelia interjected, "The Judge wasn't Buffy's toughest. He was a cake walk compared to…" The collective glares of Oz, Willow, Xander and Harry stopped Cordelia from finishing, but the damage was done.

"Compared to who?" Faith enquired anxiously.

Buffy fought to maintain a calm visage. She couldn't stop the flashes of Angel being sucked into the portal after she had run him through. Harry, remembering Giles' words about Buffy throwing up walls, wanted to give Buffy an out. He looked around for inspiration, when he spotted Oz.

"I just had a thought," Harry said quite loudly. "A question I think is important to everyone here. You're both Vampire Slayers, but what is your stance on werewolves, Faith?"

Willow perked up, wanting to hear her answer. "Oz is a werewolf."

Faith shrugged indifferently. "As long as you don't try to bite me, or hump my leg, we're five-by-five."

Buffy looked over at Harry while Faith was distracted. Harry could see her eyes were wet. She mouthed _'Thank you'_ to him.

Harry, in a flash of brilliance, realized a way to get Buffy out of the club without raising too much suspicion.

"Hey, Buffy, I can put up those apparition wards for you tonight, if you'd like? It shouldn't take more than an hour."

"Sounds good," Buffy replied, getting out of her seat.

"What about us?" Cordelia demanded hotly. "We just get left to the mercy of some teleporting perv?"

Harry kept a deadpan expression as he replied to Cordelia. "Xander can't apparate."

Faith and Willow were the first in the group to laugh. Xander simply grinned and bore the laughter.

* * *

**Revello Drive**

Harry and Buffy walked in a comfortable silence through the crisp autumnal evening. To Buffy, it was almost bizarre walking this long at night, not hearing any of the usually sounds that originated from a possible attack. To her, it was like the world was giving her the night off. This of course brought her thoughts back to Faith.

"How do you know Faith?" Buffy kept looking straight ahead, hoping to appear nonchalant. Harry wasn't exactly buying it.

"She moved into the motel room next to mine the other day."

"So, you're neighbors?"

"I suppose," Harry said, contemplating whether or not to goad Buffy. "Before tonight, I don't think I'd spoken to her more than five minutes."

"Long enough to pick up a nickname," Buffy snarked, cattily.

"She tends to do that pretty quickly, B," Harry glibly returned.

They continued in silence for a few paces more. "I barely know her, yet she just gets under my skin. 'Hardest slay'? Are you kidding me?"

Harry held back his response. He wanted to see where Buffy was going with this.

"Like this is all some game. Comparing resumes?"

'_Isn't that what we did?'_ Harry thought, but did not say.

"How dare she ask that of me…us, I meant us." Buffy went silent at her slip-up.

'_Now I think I should speak.'_ "The actual fight with Voldemort wasn't the hard part. It was what happened leading up to it." Harry paused, swallowing loudly. "The fight itself was actually pretty anti-climactic."

Buffy looked over at Harry, who now had a thousand-yard stare in his eyes.

"What happened before the fight?"

Harry turned to meet Buffy's gaze. "I'll tell you mine when you're ready to tell yours."

Buffy snapped her face frontward, refusing to continue eye contact with Harry. They were silent the rest of the way to Buffy's house.

* * *

**Buffy's House**

Joyce Summers stood on her front patio next to her daughter, drinking a cup of tea. She would have thought this a fairly mundane activity had it not been for the eighteen year-old wizard currently circling her house, waving his wand, muttering an incantation.

"So there's a another Slayer in town?" Joyce asked, a tinge of excitement in her voice.

"Yep. Just rolled into town yesterday."

"Is she staying with Mr. Giles?"

"No. She's actually staying in the room next to Harry's."

Joyce winced at that news. "Oh. Maybe we can invite her over to dinner tomorrow. Harry, too."

"Sure, I guess. Though, given our last attempt at a dinner, we should probably keep the guest list small."

"Good point," said Joyce between sips of tea. "So, what is Harry doing again?"

"He let us know about a trick wizards can do, and so he's putting up a shield to protect us."

"What kind of trick?"

"Oh, you know, teleport any where they can think of in the blink of an eye."

Joyce froze with her cup in midair. "Even into houses?"

"Even into houses," Buffy confirmed.

It was at this time; Harry came back from the opposite side of the house. Once he reached the spot he initially started, he made one more wave of his wand, and the Summers women saw a dome like ripple form a dome around their house before disappearing. Harry stowed his wand, and wiped his hands.

"Okay. For the sake of optimizing the strength of the ward, I only covered the house, and about five feet of space surrounding it. Without a ward stone, it will block about six, maybe seven attempts before collapsing. I also hooked up an alarm. Anyone trips the ward, and you'll hear a deep gong sound."

Joyce tilted her head in confusion. "We don't have a gong."

Harry grinned, "That's how you'll know it's the alarm."

"Do we have to sign a work order?" Buffy chuckled at her mom's question.

"No, ma'am. But all 'Potter Wards' come with a 30 day satisfaction guarantee."

"Anything you can do about telemarketers," Buffy asked sarcastically.

"I can unplug your phone."

Joyce chuckled before heading toward the door. "I'll sleep easier tonight. Buffy, if you're going on patrol, please be careful?"

"I'm going to call it an early night. I'll be inside in a sec."

Buffy turned back to Harry as Joyce went inside.

"I am thankful for your help."

"Least I could do," Harry said, waving his hand.

"If there's anything I can do in return—"

"Actually. Could you teach me to fight?"

Buffy's eyebrow shot up at that request. "Didn't you just fight a war?"

"A wizard war," Harry clarified. "You take the wand out of my hand, I'm as skilled a fighter as Xander. No offense to him, or anything."

Buffy nodded her head. She knew Xander's heart was in the right place, and had been by her side since she arrived in Sunnydale. But she also recalled the night she returned and watched her four closest friends struggle with one vampire.

"Fight lessons with me, magic lessons with Willow… Are you trying to put us out of a job?" Buffy's grin disarmed any ill feelings in her question.

Harry smiled as he slid his hands in his pockets, and looked off to the side. "Just trying to find my place in the world."

Again, Buffy could only nod her head. "Aren't we all?"

* * *

**September 2, 1998 – Sunnydale High – Library**

Harry had been in a few scrapes in his Primary school days, and even after learning he was a wizard, he had thrown his fair share of punches; however, he was amazed just how quickly he got winded doing this training with Giles.

"I need a second," Harry gasped, doubled over, pulling in as much air as he could. His training outfit almost completely drenched in sweat.

Giles lowered the kick pad he was holding in order to wipe the lenses of his glasses.

"Harry, while I appreciate your desire to go through the training, I feel I'd be remiss if I didn't point out: that was the warm-up."

"I know, it's just—" Harry paused as a thought struck him. "You're using the same training regimen you give Buffy, aren't you?"

Giles grinned wickedly. "Well, yes."

Harry straightened himself up, glowering at Giles. "I believe Buffy mentioned Slayers have mystically enhanced strength _and endurance_, right?"

"I believe your words were, 'I want to fight like Buffy.'"

"You are evil," Harry said in mock anger.

The doors of the library swung open, allowing Buffy, Faith, Xander and Willow to enter.

"And this is our library, complete with our very own Giles," Buffy announced, concluding what Harry assumed was the grand tour of Sunnydale High.

"You must be Faith." Giles stepped over, offering his hand.

"If I'd have known they offered Watchers this young and hot, I'd have put in for a transfer long ago," Faith smirked, giving Giles the once over as she shook his hand. "H.P., you're looking like crap."

"Fight training," was Harry's succinct reply before taking a deep drink from a water bottle.

"Well, if you ever want to go a few rounds…" Faith winked, flirting shamelessly with the wizard. Harry was thankful at that moment for his exhausted condition, as it hid his blush.

Buffy decided to steer the conversation back on track. "Giles, what's the sitch with this conference Faith's watcher went to?"

Giles got a strangely wistful expression on his face. "There's a Watchers' Retreat, every year, in the Cotswells. It's a lovely spot; very serene." Giles was unaware of the looks being shared between the Scoobies at his reminiscing. "There's horse riding, hiking, punting. And lectures, and discussions… It's a great honor to be invited."

The cheery smile disappeared from the Watcher's face. "Or so I'm told."

"I meant to ask; are you at all related to the Grangers?" Xander and Buffy shared a knowing smile, recalling Harry's description of his friend being 'his Willow.'

"Possible familial relations aside, it would appear quite fortuitous that Faith is here," Giles said, crossing to the copier near his office.

"A-ha!" Willow exclaimed, drawing everyone's attention to her. "Sorry, I just meant, 'a-ha, there's big evil brewin'.' You'll never be bored here, Faith. Because this is Sunnydale, home of the big, brewin' evil."

"I don't know how 'big and evil' it is," Giles continued, handing a copy of the paper to Buffy. "But two people have disappeared from the Sunset Ridge district."

Harry scanned the newspaper over Buffy and Faith's shoulders as they read.

"I'm good for patrolling. It will have to be late-ish." Buffy handed the newspaper over to Xander before turning towards Faith and Harry. "Mom wants you guys to come over for dinner, if that's alright?"

"Dying to meet the fam'," Faith responded neutrally.

"What about us," Xander asked?

"Didn't you guys bring a band, and half the school, last time you were invited to dinner?" Harry responded sarcastically.

"Yeah," Xander replied, "So?"

Giles once more cleaned his glasses. As he was putting them back, he glanced at his watch. "Buffy, I believe you have an exam in five minutes."

Buffy pulled Giles' hand closer, examining his watch. "You're right." Buffy quickly grabbed her books, shouting over her shoulder as she left, "Dinner's at seven, see you two later."

Xander hopped off the table. "Well, Faith, we can show you around some of the more interesting locations of school. And that's just with the near-death experiences," Willow quickly lead the way.

"Cool," Faith replied. She turned to Giles. "We can talk weapons later. Later, H.P." Harry waved as Faith left to follow Xander and Willow.

Giles picked up the kick mat. "Shall we go again?"

Harry groaned as he set down his water bottle and got into position.

**Abandoned Warehouse**

Kakistos was not pleased at all. He had come to this town with one goal: Kill the Slayer that had slipped away from him. The one that had taken his eye. He had been patient, following her across this country, keeping right on that bitch's trail.

He had taken Mr. Trick into his inner circle because, as loath as he was to admit, Kakistos had no idea how to track someone in this "modern" world. Mr. Trick had been skilled acquiring transport and supplies, but at the moment, he was going off on some tangent about the technology at hand. All Kakistos wanted was a simple answer to a simple question.

"…but we live Global. You want the blood of a fifteen year-old Filipino? It's there, next day, express air," Mr. Trick said with a self-satisfied grin on his face.

"What I want," Kakistos growled in his gravely voice, "is the blood of the Slayer."

Mr. Trick's shoulders slumped as his Master once more, took the wind from his sails. "On that front, there's good news and bad. Rumor has it, this town already has a Slayer; which makes two. Not real sure how that happened."

Kakistos launched out of his chair, instantly closing the distance between himself and Mr. Trick.

"I don't care if there's a hundred slayers! I'll kill them all," Kakistos roared. "She's going to pay for what she did to me." Kakistos ran his clawed thumb along the deep gash over what used to be his right eye.

"Can you do that for me," Kakistos asked threateningly.

Mr. Trick nodded solemnly. "I'm running a computer check on every hotel, boarding house, and youth hostel in town."

A knock came from the far entrance door. Mr. Trick moved backwards toward the door, maintaining eye contact with Kakistos as he continued speaking.

"Meanwhile, as soon as the sun goes down," Mr. Trick paused long enough to pull on a heat-insulated glove, "We're out in force."

Mr. Trick opened the door, careful to keep his exposed skin out of the sunlight as he grabbed the unfortunate delivery boy, hurling him into the room full of vampires.

"Food's here, boys," Mr. Trick announced, a sadistic smile on his face.

* * *

**Buffy's House – Evening**

"So, you're a Slayer, too? That is so interesting," Joyce mused as she dished more food onto Faith's plate. "Do you like it?"

A wide grin broke out on Faith's face. "Oh, I love it."

"Uh, mom…"

"Just a second, Buffy."

Harry had to take a sip of his drink to hide his smile from Buffy's crestfallen face. He had attended enough Weasley family dinners to recognize that look. The look of a sibling jealous of another's receiving all the attention.

"You know, Buffy never talks about it like that," Joyce continued, placing a final spoonful of veggies on Faith's plate. "Why do you love it?"

"Well, when I'm fighting, it's like the whole world goes away, and I only know one thing: I'm gonna win, and they're gonna lose," Faith boasted, bringing a forkful of the greens to her lips. "I like that feeling."

Harry's smile actually faded at those words. He knew Faith was charismatic, and obviously very aggressive, but this attitude she just spouted set off alarm bells in his head.

"Sure. It's just that feeling when they win, and you lose, that's not so fun," Buffy replied, almost mirroring Harry's thoughts.

"I try not to let that kind of negative thinking in," Faith shot back.

"Right. That kind of thinking can you get you hurt," Joyce agreed emphatically with Faith. "Buffy can be awfully negative at times."

Harry knew well enough what Joyce was getting at, and he couldn't blame her. She wanted to get her daughter out of harm's way. He imagined a similar conversation could have happened if one day Molly Weasley had learned there was a second Boy-Who-Lived out there. _'You see, Harry, you don't have to fight You-Know-Who anymore. You can let this boy do it. He's pretty excited about the idea.'_

"Actually, Mrs. Summers," Harry interjected, "Buffy's attitude is more one of constant vigilance. I had a Professor who stressed that as being key to any defense; never underestimate your opponent."

Buffy smiled at Harry, thankful for the assist. Joyce looked around the table, her eyes stopping on Faith's glass.

"Faith, would you like another soft drink?"

"That'd be great, Mrs. S."

Joyce picked up Faith's glass, and headed for the kitchen.

"Your mom's the best, B."

"Yeah. Greatest mom in the world," Buffy replied with the barest enthusiasm. "Excuse me." Buffy followed her mother into the kitchen.

Faith continued nibbling on her dinner, and sneaking fries off Buffy's plate. Meanwhile casting glances across the table at Harry.

"Who was this professor you were talking about," Faith asked, leaning forward, resting her cheek on her hand.

"Mad-Eye Moody," Harry smiled at something Moody had said to him the summer before fifth year. "Technically, he never taught at Hogwarts, but that's a long story for another day." Faith smiled at Harry's aside.

"He was the most famous Auror of the last twenty years. Um, a dark wizard catcher," Harry elaborated for a confused Faith. "He retired after losing a leg and an eye in the line of duty. The eye he replaced with a magical one that would spin all over the place, and could see through solid objects."

"He sounds pretty badass," Faith exclaimed. "He still around?"

"He died," Harry answered softly. "He was killed by the dark wizard chasing me, while escorting me to a safe house."

Faith got a hollow look in her eyes as she reached across the table, gently patting Harry's hand. She suddenly stopped when she felt something there. "Are those scars?"

Harry pulled his hand away, but left his hand on the table. Faith looked down, but saw nothing there. "I know I felt something, H.P."

Harry closed his eyes, trying to reign in his thoughts. "A small glamour spell. It prevents the scars from being seen, but not from being felt. I just didn't want to overly concern people. I don't like being pitied."

Faith nodded slowly. "I get that."

There was a silence at the table. Harry could imagine some new understanding had been reached between them. A part of him knew Faith was being sincere about resenting 'being pitied.' What was definite to him, there was something painful hidden under Faith's bravado; something calling out to him.

"You going patrolling with Buffy," Harry asked.

"Yeah. You going to be in your room when I get back?" Faith's face once more took on the appearance of a predator.

'_Maybe it's buried deeper than I thought,'_ Harry mentally gulped. "I'll likely be asleep. Giles' training really took it out of me."

Faith brushed it off casually. "Your loss."

* * *

**September 3, 1998 – Sunnydale High - Library**

"Right-left combo," Giles called out from behind the kick mat. Harry delivered a quick one-two combo to the center of the pad.

"Right-right-left combo." Again, Harry delivered the prescribed punch combo.

'_This isn't too bad,' _Harry thought to himself. A feeling of satisfaction with each landed punch. _'No wonder Dudley liked this so much.'_

The library door swung open, Buffy marching directly toward Giles. "Went patrolling with Faith last night," Buffy began, barely containing a sound of annoyance in her voice.

"Right-left-right uppercut," Giles called out to Harry before turning his attention to Buffy. "And?"

"Things were going fine, until we got jumped by three vampires, and she left me struggling with two while she went 'Raging Bull' on the third."

Harry finished the combo with an uppercut to the lower section of the pad. "Alternating three-hit combos until I say stop," Giles said over the top of the mat. "Buffy, I'm sure Faith just has a little more exuberance in a fight than you do."

"No, Giles, this was more than that," Buffy firmly stated. "This wasn't getting distracted by an adrenaline rush, this was tunnel vision to the extreme. She didn't want to just slay that vamp, she wanted to hurt it. She wanted to make it pay."

The sounds of Harry's punches died immediately. Buffy looked over to the sweat soaked wizard, and saw an expression of dawning fear on his face.

"Giles, you need to get a hold of her Watcher, immediately." Harry tore the boxing gloves off his hands as he quickly crossed to his towel and bag. Harry pulled his wand out of his bag, pointed it at himself and with a quick 'Scourgify,' his clothes were clean.

"I'll head back to the motel, make sure she doesn't leave town." Harry put his remaining belongings in his bag before stepping back into the middle of the room.

"Why do you think she'd leave town," Buffy asked, confused by Harry's reactions.

Harry looked deeply into Buffy's eyes, saying at half-volume, "Because that's what we did."

Harry quickly turned on the spot, vanishing from the library with a soft crack. Giles slowly removed his glasses, staring at the spot Harry used to be. Buffy's worried expression deepened at the suggestion of Harry's words.

"I'll call the retreat right now. They're eight hours ahead of us, they'll probably be settling in for a nightcap," Giles drifted back to his wistful tone again.

"Giles," Buffy said, drawing the Watcher from his thoughts. "Focus, please?"

"Of course," Giles agreed, moving toward the counter, setting the pad down as he went.

"Did the vampires say anything, or have any kind of distinguishing marks?"

Buffy's brow furled in thought. "One of them said something about 'living for Kissing Toast.' Does that mean something I'm not aware of?"

Giles paused, the phone in hand. "Kakistos?"

Buffy pointed excitedly. "That was it. You've heard of it?"

Giles frowned slightly as he went into lecture mode. "Kakistos is Greek; it means 'worst of the worst.' It's also the name of a vampire who's so old, his hands and feet are cloven."

"Sooooo… Bad?" Buffy stated.

"Very bad," Giles agreed, dialing the phone.

* * *

**Sunnydale Motel – Later**

Harry stepped out of the shower, feeling refreshed. His time on the run with Ron and Hermione had taught him that 'Scourgify' would clean clothes, and mop up perspiration, nothing got rid of the grimy feeling like a hot shower. But stopping for a shower did not make Harry any less focused on his goal.

He grabbed his wand off the sink, and with a quick 'Point-Me' spell confirmed Faith was still next-door. No change since he checked ten minutes ago, when apparated back to the motel room.

As he got dressed, his mind kept coming back to Buffy's words. _"…this was tunnel vision to the extreme. She didn't want to just slay that vamp, she wanted to hurt it. She wanted to make it pay."_

Harry could only think of one time he had gotten that lost in a fight. Two years ago, in the Department of Mysteries, chasing the madwoman, Bellatrix Lastrange.

"_I killed Sirius Black!"_

Watching her skipping away, chanting in a singsong voice, he ignored everything, even his wounded friends. He was focused on getting the bitch. Making her pay. He wanted her blood. He had wanted revenge, because his grief was too terrible to face.

He sat on the mattress, tying his shoes. When he finished, he did one more 'Point-Me'; again, she was still there.

He had seen it in her eyes last night; he just didn't consciously connect the dots. When he mentioned Moody dying while protecting him, her mask slipped. He assumed it was just sympathy from her. Now he knew what it really was. It was empathy. She had felt his pain before.

In all his life, he had never before wished so hard to be wrong. But all the evidence was there, and he would help Faith, just as swore to help Buffy.

Harry knocked on Faith's door. He wasn't sure what he was going to say, all he knew was he had to get her to open up. That's what his friends would do. _'Luna made it seem so easy,' _he thought, annoyed at his difficulty to think of something to say. Harry pulled himself from his inner monologue when the door opened.

"H.P.! Good to see you." Faith stepped to the side without saying a word. The move is a force-of-habit for anyone who has dealt with vampires. _'But useless in public lodgings,'_ Harry recalled from his conversations with Buffy.

"What brings you 'round," Faith asked conversationally.

"Well," Harry awkwardly started. "I thought I'd drop by, get to know you better."

"Why, H.P., I'm surprised you decided to take me up on my offer. Not disappointed, mind you, just surprised." Faith winked saucily at Harry.

"Do you just make a habit of trying to make people blush, Miss…" Harry paused briefly in thought. "I can't seem to recall you mentioning your last name."

Faith grinned, shutting the door behind her. "Oh, no. No uses my last name."

A pang shot through Harry's chest as he was reminded of a pink haired Auror who never let anyone use her first name. Harry cleared his throat to disguise his sudden inability to speak.

"I'm sure your last name can't be that bad. Especially compared to some of the wizards and witches I've met."

"Try me," Faith challenged playfully.

"Well, there was Dedalus Diggle, Dophias Doge, Bathilda Bagshot…"

Faith laughed at the parade of names Harry was listing. "Okay. My name doesn't seem so bad compared to those. Still not sure I want to share mine with you, though."

Faith plopped down on her bed, leaving the chair for Harry to ease into. "Why not?"

"A girl's got to keep some mystery about herself," Faith teased.

"You make it seem like your name is your only secret."

"I'm an open book, H.P. Try me," Faith challenged.

'_Well, now or never,'_ Harry decided. He leaned forward, maintaining eye contact. "Who was it you lost?"

Faith's cocky grin dissolved before him. She maintained eye contact, but the rest of her body language screamed her wish to escape the room.

"What…what do you mean," Faith hesitantly asked.

"You hide it well, but last night, at dinner, I saw something in your eyes. Then, this afternoon, Buffy tells me about the vampire you pummeled in the alley, and it clicked in my head. You wanted payback. For something you feel is your fault."

Faith wrung her hands as she stood up. She moved to retreat to the other room, but Harry spoke up again.

"I know how it feels, Faith. I watched my godfather die rescuing me from a trap that I should have seen coming." Faith paused in the doorway. "I felt so much shame, and anger, and grief. I was hurting so much, the only thing I could do was chase after the woman who killed him. I wanted her to suffer, like I was suffering."

Harry wiped the frustrated tears from his eyes. Faith's arms were wrapped around her torso, her gaze fixed on the floor.

"I nearly died that night." Harry's voice dropped to just above a whisper, but the room was silent enough for Faith to hear it. "Part of me wanted to give up, because I was hurting so much. And it was only because of my friends that I pulled myself together."

Faith and Harry stood in silence, neither moving from their spots. Harry was resolved to stand there all night, waiting for Faith to talk. It was only a few minutes later that he heard her voice.

"Her name was Helen," Faith softly said. "She was my Watcher. But she was more than that, you know?" Faith was now fighting her own tears, but she couldn't bring herself to move her hands from around her waist.

"My parents didn't exactly provide the greatest home environment. Mom was in and out of rehab, Dad was a drunk; so when Helen came along, told me about my potential destiny, and offered to take me in, I jumped at the chance.

"She took care of me. Helped me feel strong. She was so proud when I got called. She was to me, what Giles is to B." The tears started falling down her cheek, but she took no notice. "And then, a few weeks ago, this vamp and his goons cornered us. She told me to run. She put herself between me and him, and told me to run."

Faith broke down sobbing as she continued her story. "I was so scared! He butchered her, and the best I could do was cut his face."

Harry grabbed her, wrapping her in a tight hug. "It's okay, Faith. It's not your fault."

"Why?" Faith continued sobbing. "I'm the Slayer! I'm the one whose supposed to die fighting! Why did she do that?"

Harry gently stroked her hair, and squeezed tighter. "Because she loved you, Faith. And love is one of the strongest forces on Earth. But, you need to remember: the ones who truly love us, never really leave us."

Faith's arms wrapped around Harry, returning the hug. The two stood there, holding each other, Faith softly crying into Harry's shoulder. Neither was sure how long they stood there. Finally, Faith softly said, "Thanks, Harry."

Harry smiled into her hair. He wanted to make mention the fact she had actually used his name, but he knew that would spoil the moment.

It was then there was a knock at the door. Faith released Harry, stepping into the bathroom, wiping her eyes. Harry went to the door and peered through the peephole. He opened the door, allowing Buffy to enter.

He was mildly surprised it was already after sunset. _'Guess she was crying longer than I thought.'_

"Is she here," Buffy asked forcefully.

Harry held up his hands, gesturing for her to calm down. "She is, and I got her to tell me about what happened to her Watcher."

Buffy nodded and released some of the tension from her shoulders. "Did she also tell you the guy who did it followed her here?"

"What?" Faith dashed into the room, wide-eyed at Buffy's news.

"Kakistos," Buffy declared. "Those guys we fought last night worked for him."

"Oh, shit," Faith muttered, grabbing her bag from the floor.

Buffy was stunned at Faith's actions. "You're leaving? Just gonna drop your mess on us and skip town, that's your plan?"

Harry stepped between the two. "Buffy, you're not helping."

"I just need to get a bit of a head start," Faith replied weakly.

Harry spun around to her, squeezing her shoulders. "Faith, you have to be strong. For Helen."

Faith tore away from Harry's grip when a knock came from the door. Faith looked through the peephole and saw the slack face of the motel manager.

"What does this asshole want," Faith asked aloud as she opened the door.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl. Out in the walkway, the manager's body fell to the floor. Faith froze at the sight of the scarred and smirking Kakistos, with at least four other vampires behind him. Harry leapt to the door, slamming it in the disfigured faces of the vampires. His wand was out in a flash, as he cast a locking spell on the door.

He turned around to Buffy who was tugging on Faith's arm trying to break her from her stupor.

"We have to get out of here," Harry yelled. A cloven fist broke through the door, trying in vain to turn the magically locked handle.

Buffy threw the chair through the bathroom window. "Move!"

* * *

**Streets of Sunnydale**

Harry cast a cushioning charm at the ground as the three of them jumped out the window. When they were all back on their feet, he lifted the charm. _'No sense making the fall easy on them.'_

They had reached the end of the alley when they heard the vampires giving chase. They took blind turn after blind turn, avoiding the vampires that seemed to be coming from all sides.

Buffy pointed at a window not too far off the ground. Harry sent a blasting hex, breaking the glass.

* * *

**Abandoned Warehouse**

Once the trio was inside the building, Harry used Reparo to fix the window. They huddled together, all breathing heavily.

"That should give us time to regroup," Buffy said.

"We've got to face them, Faith," Harry agreed.

Faith looked around, her gaze stopping on the wall behind Harry and Buffy.

"No, no, no." Faith pointed. "This is their place. They lead us here."

Harry and Buffy turned and saw several dead bodies piled against the wall. Several vampires entered from the entrance in front of them. From behind, Kakistos lead Mr. Trick and three others through another door.

"Faith, we have to fight now," Buffy said as she dropped into a ready stance.

Harry looked over his shoulder. Faith was once again frozen in fear as Kakistos closed in. Harry turned back to the three vampires in front of him, who were also closing in.

Two of Kakistos' minions rushed at Buffy as Kakistos strode right up to Faith. Faith weakly raised her fists, but Kakistos struck her, sending her sideways through a wooden pole.

"Bombarda!" Harry called out, striking the center vampire in front of him in the chest. The force of the spell disintegrated him and threw the other two back.

Mr. Trick and a female vampire froze at the sight of their compatriots being thrown by the dark haired young man.

"If we don't help the Master, he'll die," Mr. Trick stated, looking at the female vampire next to him. "Our thoughts and prayers are with him."

Mr. Trick and the other vampire strolled back out the door. "That's the problem with these old school blood feuds. They ignore the big picture."

Harry apparated behind the taller of the remaining vampires, and cast a non-verbal Incendio, turning him to ash. He looked up in time to see the third of his vampires rushing him. With a flick of his wand, the vampire was hanging upside down in the air by his ankle, as though caught in an invisible snare. Harry stowed his wand, picked up a broken piece of wood, and staked the vampire in the heart.

'_Not bad, if I say so myself.'_ Harry looked over to the Slayers in time to see Buffy jam a stake into Kakistos' chest, only the vampire didn't turn to dust. He just laughed and struck Buffy.

"I guess you need a bigger stake, Slayer!" Kakistos taunted.

Faith then leapt to her feet, grabbed the broken beam she had been tossed through and ran it clear through Kakistos chest.

'_Okay, that was impressive,'_ Harry admitted to himself.

Buffy and Faith stood side by side, catching their breath after the battle as Harry walked up to them.

"You two all right," Harry asked gently.

Faith's trademark grin returned to her face. "Five by five."

Buffy nodded quietly. "You guys hungry?"

Faith chuckled lightly. "I could eat."

* * *

**Sunnydale Motel**

Faith numbly sorted through her trashed room, collecting her clothes and personal effects from the splintered furniture. Her mind was still thinking about everything that had happened a few hours ago. She had faced the beast that had killed the woman she thought of as a second mother. She had faced her fear, but her damn hands wouldn't stop shaking.

A knock on the frame of the door brought her attention the raven-haired wizard that helped her face her pain. His deep emerald eyes offering comfort and solace.

"Thought I'd offer an official invitation for you to crash in my room tonight. I can literally whip up a second bed, so there's no need for awkwardness." He smiled brightly.

"I'd appreciate that, Harry," Faith responded.

Harry shook his head in amusement. "I wasn't going to mention it, but how come you've stopped using nicknames for me?"

Faith tore her eyes away from his, her bravado depleted at the moment. "You're too good for any of the ones I can think of. So, I think I'll call you just 'Harry.'"

Harry broke out in a big, toothy smile at those words. "That's all I ever wanted to be."

Faith zipped up her bag and took one last look around the room. "That's everything."

Harry pulled out a phial of purple liquid and held it up for Faith. "I wanted to offer you this. It's dreamless sleep potion. It does just what the name says; at least six hours of restful sleep with no nightmares. It's used to alleviate trauma. And it's the last dose I have." He held the phial out to her. "I think you might need it more."

Faith gently accepted it. "Why are you doing all of this for me?"

"Because I was in the same pit you are. Still sort of am, if I'm honest. And I know how much I would have appreciated someone to just understand what I was going through. No pity. No lectures."

"Lehane," Faith uttered beneath her breath.

"What?"

"My name," Faith said louder, "is Faith Lehane."

Harry offered his arm to her. "To me, you're just 'Faith.'"

Faith grabbed her bag, and took his arm. As they walked out the door, Harry turned to her.

"You know, I was thinking of moving into an apartment here soon. I could probably use a roommate."

"Do all wizards work this fast," Faith sarcastically asked.

"Thought you might want to stay somewhere vampires can't kick down your door."

Faith thought a moment. "Can we get a Playstation?"

* * *

**September 4, 1998 – Sunnydale High – Library**

Harry sat at the table with Faith, Oz, Xander, and Cordelia. Across the room, Buffy, Willow, and Giles were talking. Buffy wasn't speaking loudly as though she was telling the whole room, but everyone was able to make out what she was saying.

"Angel was cured," she blurted out, drawing stunned gazes from Willow and Xander. "Your spell worked, Willow. But it was too late.

"The portal was open, we were fighting; then, his eyes glowed, and he was Angel again. He didn't remember what happened. He held me, and then I kissed him. And then I stabbed him." Buffy wiped her eyes, gathering herself up. "I hope that helps with your spell."

Giles nodded solemnly. "Yes, I think it will. Thank you."

Harry rose as Buffy headed to the door. She turned around, signaling him not to follow her.

Willow pleaded with Giles. "Giles, I know I'm pretty new to the witchcraft stuff, but I know I can help you with the spell."

"There is no spell," Giles glumly admitted.

Harry looked around the room, at the contemplative faces of all those present. There was no scorn, no pity, just worry. _'They understand. They know what it's like.'_

"Could you guys stay put," Harry asked. "I'm going to bring Buffy back."

Harry ran out the library doors. The Scoobies looked amongst themselves in confusion.

"What do you think he's doing," Cordelia asked the room in general.

"I think, he's got something to get off his chest as well," Faith stated.

A few seconds later, Harry returned with Buffy. He guided her to a seat, as he stood before them all. He glanced at them, one by one. _'All like me. Older than their years, facing horrors no one should have to,'_ he thought.

"I want to tell you all this because of a promise I made to Buffy the other night; that I would share my scars if she shared hers." Harry paused, attempting to steel his resolve. He looked to Buffy and Faith, their silent nods letting him know they understood the weight of what he was doing.

"I've told Buffy a lot of what I'm about to tell you, and some of it you probably picked up while talking to me. There was a war, back home, in the Wizarding world. I've mentioned that I ended it, but I never told you how the final battle started. How **I **triggered the final battle. Why I hold myself accountable for all those who died."

Over the next few hours, Harry told the Scoobies all about his hunt for the Horcruxes, the race for the Deathly Hallows, the Final Battle of Hogwarts, and how he sacrificed himself. This was the first time he talked about the battle to anyone who wasn't there.

* * *

**A/N: **Current time: 11:58pm EDT. _I met the deadline. Whoo!_

_I don't think the name of Faith's first Watcher was ever established in canon, so I just picked one._

_Next chapter is going to be more of a bottle episode that leads into the next episode._

_As always, constructive criticism is appreciated. Let me know what you like so far. And I do like some of the guesses made about the plot. Some of you guys are REAL close to what I have planned. _:)


	9. Chapter 9 - 2 Days in the Dale - Part 1

**A Year Abroad**

**Chapter 09 – 2 Days in the Dale**

**A/N:** _First, a quick elaboration: at the end of the last chapter, when I was listing what Harry told them about, I was trying to convey that he was relating to them the events of _Deathly Hallows_. A lot of his other adventures he has mentioned before to the Scoobies, but this was him telling them about the Wizarding War after it went from a shadow war to an in-the-open conflict._

_Also, a few people sent the link to Faith's first watcher's page on the Buffy wiki. In response to this, I am lifting a line from the Simpsons that is quite apropos._

"_Any time you notice something like that, a wizard did it."_

_Enjoy the chapter, folks. _

* * *

**September 5, 1998 – Angel's Mansion – 12:01 a.m. PDT**

Buffy stepped softly over the threshold of the abandoned mansion. The building was in good shape considering all that had happened back in the spring. Harry had repaired the broken windows in an instant when he and Giles had swung by earlier to move Acathla. When Buffy asked what they were going to do with the statue, Harry gave that sly grin of his before shrinking Acathla down and dropping it in a beaded pouch he wore.

'_I'll take it with me on Halloween,'_ he'd said, _'I can put it somewhere _secret_.'_

It had been tough to come here, even with company, but she felt the need to do so. She had to let them see her moving on, not running away. Stepping foot inside the mansion would show them that. But what she was doing now, she didn't feel the need to share this.

In her hands, Buffy held the silver Claddagh ring Angel had given her on her birthday. It was a small token of his affection, but it had meant the world to her. The last gift she'd ever receive from the man she loved. The man she had to sacrifice to save the world.

When she reached the spot where Acathla had stood, Buffy kneeled, and reverently laid the ring down. She did not cry. She felt the tears begin to form, but she willed herself not to let them fall. Partially because she was meeting up with Faith in a short while, but mostly because she had already cried for Angel all summer. It was time to accept that he was gone. It was time to actually be strong, as opposed to running away. It was time to say…

"Goodbye, Angel," Buffy said, just above a whisper.

Buffy rose, softly smoothing the front of her pants, before turning about. She left the mansion as quietly and slowly as she had entered.

Mere seconds after Buffy closed the door behind her, just as she had stepped out of hearing distance, a bright light filled the room, centered on the spot a silver Claddagh ring rested. A high-pitched ringing filled the room as the energy from the blindingly bright portal reached its apex. From thin air, a body fell to the ground.

Faded scars crisscrossed the back of the trembling man. He raised his black-haired head, eyes wild in their confusion; unsure whether or not what he was seeing was real. No words came from the man. It had been too long since he had any need for words. His entire body was like a raw nerve, overwhelmed by the sudden shift in his environment.

Somewhere, deep in the tormented mind of the man known as Angel, a single thought stirred. A name that had been both torment and salvation during his years in that hell; _'Buffy.'_

* * *

**First Sunnydale Cemetery – 12:20 a.m. PDT**

Faith meandered through the graves of Sunnydale's largest and oldest graveyard, trying to do something as she waited for whatever new vampires may be rising. As she passed the headstones, she would wonder how they had passed. Trying to piece together the kind of people they were when they met their end. She wasn't normally this philosophical, but she found it the only way to keep her mind off a certain new roommate of hers.

'_I thought the stories Xand-man and Red told me were bad, but yikes.'_ Faith shook her head as the thought proved how ineffectual her efforts were. _'Harry seems so normal, but he's a damn veteran.'_

Faith checked her watch as she reached the East entrance of the cemetery.

"Where are you, B," Faith asked aloud. She didn't really mind patrolling on her own, she just wanted someone to help her pass the time tonight. This place was, for all reasons, dead.

Faith stood by the entrance another six minutes before she heard the approaching steps of Buffy.

'_Cool. B and I will finish up the last cemetery, or two, and then after a good slay, I can maybe find myself a nice…'_ Faith's thoughts were interrupted when she recalled she no longer had her own room. _'Godammit!'_

Buffy forced a smile as she caught up with her sister Slayer. "Hey, Faith. Sorry for being a little late."

"I'm five-by-five, B," Faith said dismissively. "Been pretty quiet. It'd be a damned shame if I didn't get to hit anything, tonight."

Buffy held in an exasperated sigh. Normally, she appreciated a quiet night, as it gave her time to herself to just think or let her mind wander. But, truth be told, she wanted something to take her away from her thoughts tonight. She didn't care if it was vamps, or just chitchat with Faith.

* * *

**Sunnydale Motel – 12:30 a.m.**

Harry shot up straight in his cot, a strangled scream coming from his lips. He wiped the sweat off his brow with his sleeve as he subconsciously checked the corners of the room. It took him a second to come down from his nightmare.

He punched the cot angrily, when he checked the time. He hadn't even gotten two hours of sleep. _'I'd been doing so well,'_ he grumbled in his head. _'I hadn't had one in two weeks.'_

Harry made to get out of his cot, his bag in mind, but he stopped when he saw the messy, unoccupied bed. He had momentarily forgotten about giving his last dose of Dreamless Sleep potion to Faith the other night. He was glad he was going to the apothecary in L.A. with Oz to pick up some Wolfsbane potion that day; a refill wouldn't be much of a hassle.

'_But,'_ he frowned, falling back, _'what am I supposed to do to get some sleep in the meantime?'_

* * *

**Sunnydale Memorial Cemetery – 12:40 a.m.**

'_Well, I wanted to hit something,'_ Faith thought to herself as she broke out of the vampire's hold, and delivered a spinning backhand to his face.

There had been a funeral earlier today at Sunnydale Memorial Cemetery. The person buried, one Daniel Sutherland, had officially been deemed an accidental drowning; as a result, his was at the bottom of the list of graves to check out. If the Medical Examiner hadn't written the neck wounds off as damage sustained from the body's trip down river, the Slayers may have been a bit more ready for Daniel—and the five vampires that were his welcoming committee.

Buffy had staked Daniel Sutherland right off the bat. The others had quickly emerged from their nearby hiding places, cutting the two off from each other; three going for Buffy, the other two heading for Faith. Faith knew she couldn't be much of a help to Buffy until she took care of her vamps, so tried to keep focused.

These vampires, though, were not new to the game. Faith actually took a moment to appreciate how smoothly they fought together. Didn't stop her from staking the blonde she-vampire who had tried to kick her in the face. Now, she just had to take care of the guy with the mop haircut.

He steadied himself from the hit, but Faith pressed her advantage; going with momentum to end the fight. A swift kick-punch combo to the vampire's knee then face brought him to the ground long enough for Faith to stake him.

She turned towards Buffy's fight to see her dust the second-to-last of her vampires. Of course, this kept Buffy from seeing the last one trying to sneak up on her. Faith flipped the stake in her hand before throwing it with all her might. She didn't have the angle to get the heart, but was able to send the stake through the vampire's cheek, spinning him around. Buffy turned as he snarled, his jaws stuck open with the stake.

"Thanks," Buffy said to the vampire, as she pulled the stake out of his mouth, and jammed it into his heart.

Faith kicked her foot through the nearest pile of ash in a pouty fashion. "We'll split credit on that last one."

"What," Buffy exclaimed. "I stake him, I get credit."

"That guy would have been snackin' at the all-you-can eat B-fet if I hadn't locked his jaw open," Faith taunted.

"If I give credit to you, it sets a dangerous precedent. Next thing you know, Xander would be claiming partial credit for tiring the vamps out with his face."

Faith chuckled at that. "Fine, how about we create an assist category?"

Buffy felt a wave of relief at the banter. Before they stumbled upon the newly-raised Mr. Sutherland, the two had been walking in awkward silence. Buffy had begun to wonder where the boastful Faith of just a few days had gone. She may not have wanted the Faith backing her in a fight, but she could keep Buffy out of her own head; even if her preferred method was making Buffy blush.

"I guess," Buffy pondered. "Would we have to create a special category for magic kills, or do we just put an asterisk on Harry's count?"

Faith's cocky grin faltered as the one topic she had hoped to avoid tonight was brought front and center. _'Dammit, B!'_

"I guess Harry would have to be in a category by himself," Faith spoke softly.

It wasn't hard for Buffy to pick up the insecurity in Faith's tone and body language. "Something wrong, Faith?"

Faith attempted nonchalance, but barely spoke above her previous volume. "No, B, I'm five-by-five."

Buffy brought them to a stop next to a moss and ivy covered mausoleum. "I may not know exactly what 'five-by-five' means, but I know you're anything but." Buffy crossed her arms across her chest, leveling her gaze on Faith's eyes. "Now, spill."

Faith leaned back against the mausoleum as she gathered her thoughts, attempting to formulate the words.

"I know I joked about it before," Faith started, "But you two really make a girl feel out of her league." Faith met Buffy's suddenly confused expression with one of honest awe.

"Sure, the two of us go out every night and kick evil's ass, but we're stronger than most vamps. He fought a damn war against people with the same abilities as him, some with more years experience than he had been alive." Faith gazed up at the stars. "He did all that, for seven years, and he's still holding it together."

Faith's gaze moved to focus onto a spot on her shoe. "And I turn into a basket case after four months."

Buffy took in the sight of the surprisingly humbled Faith. Meeting her a few days ago, Buffy thought Faith oozed self-confidence. After last night, and seeing her now, Buffy realized just how much of a "brave face" Faith had been putting on. The dark haired slayer kept her face down, as Buffy mulled over her response.

"Four months after I became the Slayer," Buffy said, drawing Faith's eyes to her face, "I had been expelled for saving all of the students at the dance, my parents thought I was crazy—when they weren't screaming their heads off at each other, and all of my friends abandoned me. Then I came here, and I thought I could walk away. Of course, that didn't happen. The weirdness was here, waiting for me."

Buffy leaned on the mausoleum, next to Faith. "But then, Giles, Xander, and Willow entered the picture. I wasn't alone anymore. And that made all of the difference. Harry had his friends, I have mine, and now you have all of us."

Faith smiled sarcastically as a thought entered her head. "B, I didn't think you were the sharing type."

Buffy sighed exaggeratedly. "Normally, I'm not. But I'll do my best to change my ways." Buffy smiled brightly. "Besides, we Slayers can't let some wizard outshine us, can we?"

Faith returned Buffy's smile. "I don't know, B. Harry marched willingly to what he was told was his death. I don't know if either of us can match that."

Buffy nervously rubbed her neck. "Yeah. I guess no one told you how exactly I died."

Faith's jaw dropped at Buffy's implication. "Long story, short," Buffy summarized, "prophecy said I would die if I faced the Master. I went anyway. Prophecy was right, but I got better."

Faith grumbled incoherently under her breath as she pushed away from the mausoleum. Finally, she turned toward Buffy. "Okay. I don't plan on dying anytime soon, so I call dibs on the next giant snake we have to kill."

Buffy laughed deeply before shaking Faith's hand. "Deal."

* * *

**Rosenberg Residence – 12:45 a.m.**

Willow Rosenberg was always a model student. She held the record for most consecutive days of school attended, was third in her class (stupid gym), and not only helped teachers in class, but was also able to substitute for Ms. Calendar after her death. She also always had trouble getting to sleep the night before a final, and before the start of term. However, it was not the excitement of starting some magic lessons this weekend that kept her up; it was the thoughts whirling in her head after hearing Harry's story. That was why she was currently staring up at her ceiling, trying to will herself to sleep.

"Can't sleep either, huh," Xander asked softly, lying in his sleeping bag on the floor at the foot of Willow's bed. "You freaking out, too?"

Willow nodded before realizing Xander couldn't see her head from his angle. "Just a little bit."

Xander and Willow both sat up from their respective spots.

"What part's freaking you out more," asked Xander. "Because I'm having a hard time with the thought that Harry had a part of that maniac in his head all his life."

"Well, yeah, there's that," Willow mumbled. "But, I guess what scares me the most was that last battle."

Xander couldn't stop the grin on his face. "Don't worry, Will. Harry said they already rebuilt magic school."

Willow rolled her eyes. "Not that, Xander." Willow paused for a second. "Not _just_ that," she reluctantly admitted. "Harry spent six years of his life fighting Voldemort and his minions in relative secret. Putting his life on the line so his classmates don't have to know what's in the shadows."

"Sounds familiar," Xander added.

"And then, suddenly, his world gets turned upside-down, and it's no longer puzzles, and solo missions; it's flat out war. And all his friends he tried to protect are now on the front line. And when the smoke clears, he's still standing, and all those people he grew up with are gone." Willow wipes away a tear from her cheek.

"Xander, what if that happens to us? What if a day comes we can't keep the battle out of the shadows?"

This did cause Xander some pause. He and Willow wouldn't allow Buffy to keep them out of the fight when Jesse died, and had made Buffy's fight their own. For some reason, he doubted the majority of Sunnydale High would have made the same choice. So many of them _had_ seen the demons that prowl their town, and still kept their heads in the sand.

"I think," Xander started, "that as long as we stand together. We'll come through fine. Besides, now we know a full-fledged wizard we can call on to help." Xander patted Willow's hand before lying back down. "He seems to have made it through all right."

Willow gently chewed on her lower lip. "I don't think he has," Willow whispered, lying back on her bed.

* * *

**September ****5, 1998 - Sunnydale Motel – 7:30 a.m.**

Faith stirred awake, wrapped in a cocoon of the thin lengths of fabric the Sunnydale Motel jokingly called bed sheets. She cursed herself as she looked at the still partly open curtains that allowed the morning sunlight to strike her on her face. Grumbling, she rolled out of bed. It wasn't until she spotted Harry that she had any expression other than a grimace.

Harry was passed out on his cot; his glasses were still on, and a large book lay open across his chest. She took a look at the cover as she walked by.

'_Transfiguration Through the Ages,' _Faith shook her head, _'Yeah, that'd probably put me to sleep, too.'_

She closed the bathroom door behind her and turned the shower to its hottest setting; which by most common means of measuring was 'just shy of room temperature.' After which, she took off her customary sleepwear of tank top and boxers to check for residual bruises from last night's patrol. There weren't any.

'_Gotta love Slayer healing,'_ Faith happily thought, slipping into the shower. _'Fully working, hot showers have to be a 'must' when we find a place.'_

As Faith scrubbed herself, she was once again reminded just how worked up last night's patrol had gotten her. _'And thick walls. Thick walls are also a must. Unless Harry wouldn't mind hearing me relax the tension,'_ Faith thought with a wicked grin.

'_Then again, maybe Harry would prefer to help me relieving said tension.'_ Faith's grin broadened, but she didn't get a chance to continue that line of thought as the water coming from the showerhead turned icy cold.

Once done with her cold shower, Faith wrapped herself in the thickest towel available and trotted back into the main room. She pulled a change of clothes from her duffel bag before letting the towel drop. She slipped on her underwear when she heard Harry mumble in his sleep.

"No—no, not them. I'll do it, just—not them."

Faith cautiously moved closer to Harry's cot. "Harry?"

"Mum…"

Faith paused at this, mildly upset. _'Did he just call me 'Mum'?'_

"Dad. Sirius. Remus. Stay with me?"

Her expression softened as she made the connection. _'He's reliving the night he—'_

Harry started thrashed around as much as the cot allowed, and then some. Faith decided she wanted to spare him the embarrassment of tipping himself over, and started to shake him.

"Harry. Harry. Wake up!"

Faith would be the first to acknowledge she's not the most patient person in the world, so she felt three verbal attempts were enough before physically waking him. She grabbed hold of his shoulders and gave him a good, solid shake. In return, Harry shot up, bringing his wand to bear under Faith's chin. The Transfiguration book hit the ground about two paces away from Harry.

"Faith? What's wrong?" Harry lowered his wand from Faith's head, while his eyes wildly scanned the room.

"You were having a pretty brutal dream from the sound of it."

Harry's eyes returned to Faith, before dropping and seeing how little she had on. He immediately covered his eyes with hands.

"Merlin," he exclaimed. "Sorry, Faith. Didn't realize you were getting dressed."

Faith chuckled as Harry's cheeks turned red. "How could you have known? You were the one sleeping."

Harry cleared his throat. "I'll just hop in the shower, and let you finish."

Faith took mercy on Harry and stepped aside, instead of blocking his path to the bathroom. "Head's up, though. There's no warm water. Didn't even get to finish mine before it went cold."

Harry waved his wand in his hand over his shoulder, still not turning to look at Faith. "Got it covered," he said before closing the door behind him.

"Maybe we should go apartment hunting today," Faith suggested loud enough to be heard through the door. "You know, avoid future sit-com-y situations in the future," Faith teased.

"Sounds good,"was Harry's brief reply.

Hearing the shower turn on, Faith picked up Harry's book and returned it to the small table next to the cot.

'_Guess he's not as together as I thought.'_ Faith smiled to herself as she slipped on her pants. _'Good. It's nice to know nobody's perfect.'_

* * *

**Apartment Building – Sunset Drive – 11 a.m.**

A mustachioed landlord, dressed in a plain blue dress shirt, and khakis worn around the knees opened the door of the apartment, leading Harry and Faith inside. He flicked the light switch, evening out the light coming in from the northward facing windows.

"This is the only vacant two bedroom we have available," the landlord explained. "There's only one bathroom, though."

Harry chuckled to himself as he passed by the front door. _'Number four, huh?'_

Faith looked around the apartment. It was definitely a leap up from the Sunnydale Motel, so that easily earned it points. But Faith at least knew well enough to play things close to the vest when dealing with landlords… or salesmen… or most authority figures, really.

"The bedrooms seem a tad on the small side," Faith said aloud.

"For the price range you're looking for, you're going to be hard pressed to find any much bigger, Miss…"

"Just 'Faith' is fine."

Harry put a reassuring hand on Faith's shoulder. "We can make it work. Besides, last year, two friends and I lived in a small tent. This will be nothing."

Harry gave Faith a sly wink, cluing her in to what he was saying.

"So what kind of rent are we looking at here," Faith asked the landlord.

"Well, I suppose I could rent it to you for one-thousand a month, with six months up front."

"There better be some utilities included with that," Faith challenged as she looked at the apartment once again, with a more critical eye.

The landlord simply shook his head.

Faith, keeping up the part of bad cop, huffed to Harry, "We should look elsewhere."

"Hold on a second, Faith. Maybe mister—"

"Ruteger."

"Ruteger, is willing to negotiate a little?"

Faith crossed her arms, stomping over to the other side of the room, behind Mr. Ruteger.

"Mr. Ruteger, since this is a non-furnished apartment, with no utilities included, and you're asking for six months in advanced, I think some wiggle room is allowed?"

"I suppose," Ruteger replied in a tone of voice known on used car lots the world over.

"How about, eight-hundred a month?"

Ruteger hemmed and hawed a little bit. He went over in his head how many various tenants he'd rented this place to in the last six months. No tenant had ever stayed in this apartment longer than a month. Many of them were victims of the gangs on PCP that were so prevalent in this town. The required $6,000 was mostly to pay for the cleanup once the apartment had become available.

"I don't think I could let this place go for so little, unless you'd be willing to pay eight months in advance."

Faith's positioning in the room made sure Ruteger was unable to see her mime to Harry her suggestion that Harry use his magic on the unsuspecting landlord.

"So you're saying we can get this place for eight months at $800 a month?"

"I could definitely work that. With the hundred dollar application fee of course."

Harry nodded Faith over to him.

"You think he thinks we're a bunch of yokels," Faith asked.

"I'm actually kind of counting on it. If he knew who he was renting to, I'm sure he wouldn't be charging us the dead-man-walking rates."

Faith shrugged noncommittally. "It's your money."

Harry turned back to the expectant Mr. Ruteger. "$6,500 for eight months and the application fee, you say?"

"Yes, sir."

"And we can move in immediately?"

"Of course."

Harry pulled out his checkbook. "Whom should I make the check out to?"

Mr. Ruteger smiled, laughing inside his head. 'Easy money,' he thought.

**Los Angeles – Hole in the Wall Apothecary – 1:30 p.m.**

With a rush of displaced air, and a swirl of blurred color, Harry, Willow, and Oz appeared in the alley, all falling flat on their asses. The dark haired wizard pocketed the rented portkey before pulling himself to his feet. The redheaded witch, and her werewolf boyfriend were having a bit of a time trying to return to their feet.

"Okay," Willow exhaled, "Portkeys not exactly winning me over on the 'comfort' criteria."

Harry suppressed a chuckle as Oz helped her regain her footing. "On the plus side," the werewolf mused, "it does cut down on the amount of gas money needed."

Harry cast a scourgify charm on himself and each of his travel companions to clear the muck off their clothes from the alley. The trio then walked the short distance to a plain wooden door with a plaque that read: _Hole in the Wall Apothecary - Est. 1915_.

Stepping through the door, Harry was actually surprised that the inside of the store was almost exactly like a muggle pharmacy. The store was well lit, with rows and rows of common household and cosmetic potions. There was even a well-stocked candy aisle, right next to a magazine section with a wide selection.

'_Never heard of 'Goblin Quarterly' before,'_ Harry thought as he briefly skimmed the titles.

A wispy-haired gentleman, dressed in a pale blue robe and wearing round, wire-framed glasses, smiled pleasantly at the group as they neared.

"Welcome to 'Hole in the Wall,' my name is Geoffrey. How may I be of assistance?"

Willow and Oz looked to Harry as he stepped forward. "My friend, here, is needing a dose of Wolfsbane potion, and I was told your store carried it."

Geoffrey nodded as he turned toward Oz. "That is indeed true. I will get a dose ready; I'll just need to see some I.D."

Oz took out his driver's license, handing it to the older wizard apothecary. Geoffrey set the license on a blank portion of a form before hitting it with a silent spell. When he handed the license back, there was an exact color copy on the form.

"Thank you, sir. I'll be right back with your potion." The apothecary took the form in hand, heading through a heavy door behind the counter.

"Do they take Blue Cross, here," Oz asked Harry.

"Wizards don't have health insurance companies," Harry replied flatly.

"They don't?" Willow asked is a surprised voice. "What about all the dangerous spells, and the falling off brooms, and the splinching you were talking about?"

"Maybe the premiums would be too high," Oz offered with a shrug.

Geoffrey returned from the back room, sliding what looked like the thermos from a child's lunchbox into a large white bag you would see at any muggle pharmacy.

"Is this your first time taking Wolfsbane potion, Mr. Osbourne?"

"Yes," Oz answered quietly, but surely.

"The thermos will keep the potion at the proper temperature." Geoffrey rolled the top of the bag shut before stapling it. "Take a lid's worth of the potion each night of the full moon, at least one hour before moonrise. Afternoons would be best. Bring the thermos back when you're ready for a refill."

Geoffrey set the bag down on the counter, but closer to himself than the others. "Total amount for the dosage comes to three galleons."

"Is that expensive," Willow asked aloud before she could stop herself.

Geoffrey looked at Willow before turning toward Harry. "I take it she's not that familiar with the exchange rate?"

Willow looked between Geoffrey and Harry with an easily discernable expression of confusion.

"A Galleon is roughly equal to thirty dollars, American," Harry clarified as he handed the coins over to the Apothecary.

Geoffrey had handed the receipt to Harry, and was in the process of handing the potion to Oz, when Willow continued her thought process.

"Guess I need to add that to the list of questions. I mean…you are the only wizard I know."

Geoffrey pulled the potion bag back from Oz. "I'm sorry. Does that mean Mr. Osbourne, here, is a muggle?"

Harry not-so-subtly wiped his bangs off his forehead, revealing his famous scar. "Is that a problem?"

Geoffrey's eyes quickly took note of the scar. Harry had learned that while most foreign wizards didn't fawn over him after defeating Voldemort, they at least knew of his reputation.

"No, Mr. Potter, nothing like that," Geoffrey said calmingly. "It's just…none of the literature I've read suggest this potion has been tested on muggle lycanthropes. This potion, much like the disease, acts with the magical core. Before now, it hasn't been much of an issue, since the only ones who would know about the potion would be witches, wizards, and their relatives. I don't know what effect this potion will have on Mr. Osbourne. No one does."

Willow clung to her boyfriend's side. Oz furrowed his brow, but his face was otherwise unreadable. Harry mulled over the apothecary's words in his head.

"What's your best guess on the result of giving him the potion?"

The apothecary tapped his lips in thought for a few seconds. "Well, it's more a mental potion than a physical one. And none of the ingredients are inherently toxic. I'd say, best case: the potion has no effect, and he simply goes through the transformation as he normally does. Worst case: potion wears off quicker than normal."

"How is that 'worst case,'" Willow asked.

"It's worst case if he becomes a mindless beast while not secured away. Or when loved ones are with him." Geoffrey looked over the tops of his glasses at Willow. A feat that was impressive, considering how far he had to lower his head to do so.

"That's fine. I'll stay locked in the cage tomorrow night after taking the potion, and we'll see what happens."

The look on Geoffrey's face was one of sudden excitement. He schooled his features as much as he could before turning back to Harry.

"Mr. Potter, I pride myself on the quality of my products, as well as the satisfaction of my customers. The last thing I want to come off seeming like is a Snake Oil Salesman…though I actually do sell snake oil; it's very good for arthritis…anyway, I'd like to make you a business arrangement."

Harry drummed his fingers on the counter lightly. "I'm listening."

"What I'm proposing is simple. As I said, no one has done any research on the effects of Wolfsbane potion on muggle lycanthropes, but clearly, such research would be invaluable. If you, Mr. Osbourne, and Miss…"

"Rosenberg," Willow offered up cheerfully.

"-Rosenberg would be willing to take notes of the potion's effects on Mr. Osbourne, and provide said notes to me, I'd gladly provide Mr. Osbourne's Wolfsbane potion, if proven effective, at a substantial discount."

Willow joined in the conversation, wanting to negotiate the best deal for Oz. "When you say 'his potion,' are we talking merely this dose, or are we talking 'for life'?"

Harry mentally applauded Willow's brilliant question. Geoffrey's smile drooped for a heartbeat. "'For life,' of course."

"What do you say, Oz," Harry asked genially. "Feel like being a lab rat?"

Oz nodded softly to himself. "Sounds like a good deal."

"Excellent," enthused Geoffrey. "If you could hand me back the receipt, Mr. Potter, I will provide you with a sixty percent discount for this dose."

Harry handed the receipt back, but stopped Geoffrey before he could open the register.

"Actually, I could use a refill of some Dreamless Sleep potion, and whatever's left over, could I get some first aid potions?"

Geoffrey smiled as he took the rack with the empty phials Harry had just pulled out of his expanded pocket.

Willow looked at Harry with curiosity. "First aid potions?"

Harry grinned. "Something tells me we'll need them, with this lot."

* * *

**Sunnydale - Buffy's House – 1:50p.m.**

"I can take care of those, mom." Buffy collected the plates from the now finished lunch, giving them a quick rinse and depositing them in the dish washer. All of this without any prompting from Joyce. It was the last fact that had the mother a little curious.

"Do you wanna go out," Buffy asked. "Some mother-daughter shopping, or maybe we can just get some mother-daughter iced cappuccinos?"

"Who are you, and what have you done with Buffy," Joyce joked.

Buffy blushed mildly at Joyce's teasing. "Well, I get one of my rare 'days off' today, and I thought it'd be nice to do something, just the two of us."

"I appreciate the thought, and I don't want this to sound wrong, but what brought this on?"

Buffy heaved a sigh. Having finally said goodbye to Angel last night, she was pretty emotionally raw. The need to be near someone was so clear in her head; it was trying to find the words to describe it that made her pause.

"I was jealous of Faith," Buffy blurted out. "When she came to town, and got along so well with everyone, I was jealous. I had just got everyone back, and here she comes, and everyone loves her.

"I didn't want to lose any of you, so I was a bit of a brat. Then she tells me and Harry about her former Watcher, how she lost her." Buffy went silent for a moment. Joyce, not wanting to break Buffy's line of thought, remained silent. "And Harry…he told us about the Wizard War he was just in. How, the night it all ended, he called upon the ghost of his mother to keep him strong." A few tears managed their way into Buffy's eyes, and for a brief moment, Joyce saw the little girl that would come to her when she had a bad dream, or when she hurt herself playing. Joyce wanted nothing more than to grab her daughter in a tight hug at that moment.

"They tell me these stories, and I feel ashamed for my jealousy, because even though I have you, I take you for granted sometimes."

Joyce couldn't hold back any longer, and immediately clasped her arms around her daughter. Buffy returned the hug, burying her face into Joyce's shoulder. Joyce could feel a warmth and tenderness in this embrace with Buffy she hadn't felt since before they came to Sunnydale. A gentle smile crossed Joyce's lips as she realized that whatever remaining wall there had been between her and Buffy, was starting to come down.

"I love you, too, Buffy." Joyce pulled back from Buffy enough, to wipe a tear from her daughter's cheek. "Let me grab my purse," Joyce said. "Those cappuccinos sound good, right about now."

* * *

**Chase Residence - 2:27p.m.**

"So, how much longer is this going to take," Cordelia asked in a tone that was starting to annoy Harry. Queen C walked side-by-side with Xander as she led Harry around the Chase residence; though it should have been called mansion.

"Cordy, let's not distract the nice wizard casting the protective wards on your house, just yet," Xander replied with his usual snarky tone.

'_Thank you, Xander.'_ Harry continued the incantation for the anti-apparition wards, as the pair of Sunnydalians continued their banter.

"Look, I don't want my parents asking a whole lot of questions about why we have a foreigner walking around the house-"

"You mean other than the gardener?"

"Shut it, Xander. Anyway, I don't want them asking questions that would lead to having to discuss the whole 'demon thing.' So, it's better to just appear to be showing a new friend around the grounds."

Xander looked around the grounds, then up to the house. "Are your parents even home right now?"

'_Just another fifty yards,' _Harry stressed to himself in order to keep going.

* * *

**Harry and Faith's Apartment – 3:19p.m.**

Faith rested on her simple duffel bag, sipping slowly from a bottle of Pepsi. She had decided to make the first grocery run while Harry was out, but didn't buy a lot since she was a little strapped for cash. She would have passed the time unpacking, but there was no dresser in her bedroom; nor was there a bed. She had suggested they go look for some of the finer furniture left out on curbs in town, but all Harry had said was _'We'll take care of that when I get back.'_

She didn't mind scoring free drinks off guys at the club, but Faith thought she would draw the line at having a guy furnish her apartment for her. _'Then again,'_ Faith thought amusedly to herself, _'In terms of Sugar Daddies, I could do far worse than Harry.'_

Faith sat up as she heard a key slot into the door. A second later, a worn-out, but relieved looking Harry stepped into the empty apartment. He set several plastic bags on the counter before closing the door.

"Never again! Never again am I putting up protective wards at that house. I feel pity for whatever wizard goes to that house when those two are there."

Faith eyed the bags warily, assuming Harry had gone ahead and gotten groceries as well. _'Damn it, Harry. I told you I was going to go shopping,' _Faith shouted in her head.

"I didn't know if you had paper plates and plastic cups on your shopping list, so I grabbed some. Figured that would be easier when we have everyone over tomorrow."

Faith frowned to herself; she _had_ forgotten to put those items on the list.

"At the very least, we'll have plenty of space to mingle," Faith cracked dryly, waving her arms around the vacant room.

Harry acted as though he was just noticing the lack of furniture. "Oh, I suppose we should do something about that."

Faith rolled her eyes. "What are you going to do? Wave your wand and make a bunch of chairs appear?"

An exaggerated expression of hurt crested Harry's face. "Faith! I thought you had more respect for my abilities than that. Tell you what…" Harry playfully pulled his wand out of his pocket, handed it over to Faith.

"I will have this apartment furnished before dinner, tonight, without touching that wand," Harry proclaimed.

Faith shot Harry a doubtful glare. "You got a second wand on you, don't you?"

Harry pushed up his sleeves, showed both sides of his arms, revealing nothing hidden.

"Okay, how do you plan to do it?"

Harry flashed a toothy grin that would have made Lockhart proud, if he could have recalled who he was. "With a single invocation."

"With a wha—"

"KREACHER!" Harry shouted, cutting off Faith's question.

At that second, a quiet pop sounded just off to Faith's left. She spun on her heel, reflexively reaching for the stake she kept tucked in her waistband, before she laid eyes on the diminutive, wrinkled creature in front of her.

"Master Potter calls for Kreacher?" The ancient house-elf wheezed. His gaze remained on Harry, ignoring Faith's battle-ready stance.

"Yes, Kreacher. I'm going to be staying here for a few months," Harry warmly explained to the elf. "Could you expand the bedrooms a bit, then bring over some spare furniture from Grimmauld Place?"

"Kreacher shall do as his Master asks." Kreacher bowed before popping away right in front of Faith.

The brunette Slayer sighed as she stepped over to Harry. "Didn't even say anything to me," Faith said, teasingly. "A bit rude, if you ask me."

"You're lucky you didn't meet him a year ago. He would have been a lot ruder in the presence of a Muggle."

With a short dragging sound, almost as if someone had merely nudged it, a couch upholstered in worn, green upholstery appeared in the front room. Followed immediately after by a matching armchair, and a small darkly lacquered coffee table. They were positioned with the couch facing the wall and the chair facing the front door.

"He must have finished the bedrooms, already," Harry thought aloud as a large rug appeared spread out on the floor of the small dining area.

Faith, curiosity winning out on her, went to open the door of the bedroom she had intended to claim for herself. When she looked inside, the room had nearly doubled in floor space, and a queen sized was freshly made with a set of luxurious looking bed sheets. A five drawer dresser was against the wall next to the closet, and there was even a simple writing desk and chair opposite the bed.

"No friggin' way!" Faith exclaimed.

Gentle laughter brought her attention back to Harry. "Yeah. Kreacher does amazing work."

"Master honors Kreacher with his praise." The pair turned to face the elf that rose barely to their hips. "Though Kreacher should not be surprised by the kindness of the Defender of House Elves."

Faith snorted at Harry's flash of discomfort. "How many titles do you have, Harry?"

It was at this comment that Kreacher finally deigned to look at Faith. His expression, initially one of snooty disdain-that would not have been unfamiliar to people who knew Cordelia—to one of thoughtful examination.

"Curious," Kreacher whispered aloud. "Master's companion is a muggle, yet not a muggle. Kreacher sees power in Master's companion."

Harry took the opportunity to step in at Kreacher's unstated question. "Kreacher, this is Faith; she's a Vampire Slayer."

Kreacher's expression was now one of awe; his eyes actually foregoing his usual disapproving squint. "Ah. That explains her power." Kreacher looked away from Faith, continuing to voice his thoughts aloud. "Master continues to associate himself with powerful, yet unorthodox people. No wonder the Dark Lord fell to Master."

Faith looked to Harry for some guidance of what to do. She read Harry's expression to mean: _'Go with it. I'll explain later.'_

"It's cool to meet you, Kreacher." Faith held out her hand. Kreacher gripped her hand briefly before turning back toward Harry.

"Does Master require anything more of Kreacher?"

"Not today, Kreacher. Thank you for coming. I know how much you dislike leaving Grimmauld Place."

"Kreacher shall return home, then. Make sure the ancestral home of Black is in good condition when Master returns from his travels."

Kreacher then disapperated away unceremoniously.

"Guess you can't find good help these days," Faith quipped.

* * *

**Giles' Apartment – 5:30 p.m.**

Rupert Giles stared blankly at the open tome in front of him. He had opened it more than an hour ago, and had not turned a single page.

'_It's the smell.'_

He had hoped he could escape his thoughts by burying himself into researching whatever vague apocolypses (apocolypsi?) might be waiting around the corner. To get away from thoughts involving a certain ring mentioned by a certain wizard.

'_Computers don't smell, Rupert.'_

All was for not, because as soon as he opened the dusty volume of portents of doom, thoughts of her flooded his mind. Smell _was_ a powerful trigger of memory, after all.

Some days it was easy for him to push past the pain. Others, he questioned how he was able to hold it together as well as he did. It had been less than six months since that night. Giving up the ghost, Giles closed the book and went straight for the bottle of single malt he kept in the top-most cabinet in his small kitchen.

Giles knew that there was no way to bring Jenny back. Her method of death, though caused by the hands of a vampire, was still a natural death. But Harry's tale of the Hallows had intrigued him.

'_A way to see her again,' _Giles thought desperately. _'A way to say goodbye.'_

The only thing standing between Giles and this chance was an ocean, a school he would be unable to get near, and a forest full of dark creatures, and almost no idea of the exact location of where Harry dropped said ring. He quashed a flare of anger inside of him, at the thought of something so wondrous being casually tossed away with the thought of how easily the power could be abused.

'_If I am desperate enough to use it, why would I ever stop?'_

He tilted his head back, inviting the warm burn of his throat as the liquor went down. He knew the dangers of magic; had even experienced them first hand. He was certainly glad Harry learned to forsake certain temptations at his age. For that, Giles would envy him.

By the time the knock had come on his door, he had rinsed out the glass and returned the bottle to the cabinet.

* * *

**The Silver Dragon – 5:48 p.m.**

Harry whistled merrily as he stepped into the Wizard bar. The crowd was light, but Harry could tell that the expected atmosphere of a bar on the weekend was already taking shape. Those that were here were dressed for relaxation or enticement, instead of looking like they had just come work. The enchanted jukebox, full of some of the most popular recordings in the magical world, was blaring out a raucous tune that Harry recognized as the Weird Sisters.

Upon seeing Harry enter, Gil pulled out two envelopes from beneath the bar.

"Mr. Potter," Gil spoke with a playful tone of voice, "You've got mail."

"Got some outbound, as well." Harry laid three envelopes down on the counter, along with the rental portkey, as he collected his two inbounds. "You'll also be happy to know that I will likely be making less use of your fine owls in the future."

"Don't worry about it. The overgrown feather dusters need the exercise." Harry chuckled at Gil's joke. "Did you negotiate fewer check-ins with your lady friends?"

"Not quite," Harry grimaced. "I do, however, have a more permanent address for the letters to be sent to."

"We don't cater, if that's your next question. You'll have to find somewhere else for any parties you might throw."

Harry playfully pouted at the old barman's tease. "Alright, I'll just have to get my heavily-fired, and tasteless snacks from the store."

"Oi!"

Harry laid a few sickles on the bar, and backed up a step. "Got to run. Have to meet up for a team briefing before going on patrol."

Approaching the door, Harry spotted the unlit lights of the detector that went off the other night as Faith encountered the Scoobies. Harry turned back to the bar, signaling Gil to come closer.

"My house elf made mention of something, and I wanted to ask," Harry whispered to the bartender. "Slayers, their powers are magic-based, even though they're not magical, right?"

With a grin, Gil simply nodded his head.

"That means, they're technically exempt from the statute of secrecy, right?"

"Kind of hard to fight against the supernatural if you're not allowed to know about it. Besides, Slayers have their own secrets to keep."

Harry pondered the status of some of his other friends. "Werewolves suffer from a magical disease, so they're exempt. What about wandless witches, uh… Wiccas? They have magic, even though it's different?"

Gil waved his hand in the air. "Bit of a gray area, but I doubt anyone would mind too much." Gil examined Harry with a suspicious eye. "Care to jump to what you're wanting to ask, Mr. Potter?"

Harry shrugged. "Just curious if I could bring my friends in here, or not."

Gil started cleaning a glass as he considered Harry's question. "I guess being vouched for by the Man-Who-Conquered ought to be enough to allow them in. But, any trouble, and it's on you."

Harry gleefully slapped his envelopes against the edge of the bar. "Good to know. This time, I'll actually be off."

Gil watched as Harry Potter walked out the door, into the night. A deep from crossed Gil's face, as he turned toward the large man in the worn suit at the opposite end of the bar. A non-verbal conversation was shared between the two men with just a few glances, and Gil knew that there'd be yet another letter sent out that night.

* * *

**Giles' Apartment – 6:34 p.m.**

"Okay, Willow. One more time," Harry said as he stepped back from the feather quill. "Swish-and-flick."

"And it's pronounced 'win-gardium,' right? Not 'wing-ardium?'"

Harry nodded with a warm smile on his face. "Whenever you're ready."

Willow breathed deep, focusing on the feel of the unfamiliar wand in her hand. She had been waiting anxiously to try this all day, but was now experiencing some awful stage fright. When she imagined learning Wizarding magic from Harry, she did not picture the Scoobies watching in rapt attention.

Releasing the breath, Willow started the wand movement Harry had shown her just minutes ago. "_Wingardium Leviosa_."

Harry took in her wrist movements—_'Nice and smooth, no hesitation'_—and listened to her speak the incantation—_'No stuttering, perfect inflection.' _All leading to the end result—_'The quill isn't budging.'_

Willow returned Harry's wand with a sigh. "I don't think I'll be able to do any of your spells, Harry."

Buffy stepped up and rubbed Willow's back, giving her a sympathetic groan. "It's okay, Willow. We thought it might be a long shot."

"It might also be the wand is incompatible," Harry offered up, diplomatically. "My friend Neville had the hardest time casting spells with father's old wand, and improved by leaps and bounds when he got his own. We can look for a wand shop the next time we go up to L.A."

"I guess." Willow slumped down into the couch cushions, next to Oz. Buffy and Harry shared an almost desperate look.

"You know…" Buffy began, "turnabout is fair play. Willow, why don't you try teaching him how to do a spell without a wand." The meaning of Buffy's urgent look was not lost on Harry.

"Oh, yeah. I'd be absolutely pants at that. The only times I've ever done wandless magic were accidents. Like the Wizarding world version of wetting the bed."

All the Scoobies, save for Willow, looked at Harry with expressions of mixed shock and embarrassment. Willow was too preoccupied with the floor to really process Harry's words.

With a loud clearing of the throat, Giles broke the tension of the room. "Perhaps we can call an end to the cultural exchange for the evening?"

"Seconded," exclaimed Xander.

Faith lightly smacked Buffy's shoulder. "Ready for patrol, B?"

"Sure. Any preference on where we start?"

"Depends on if bed-wetter is coming with us, tonight."

Harry hung his head in exasperation. "I didn't actually wet the bad. It was the only metaphor I could…"

Harry stopped mid-sentence and hurried across the room when he noticed Faith and Buffy were already on their way out the door.

* * *

**8:51 p.m.**

Willow, Oz, Xander and Cordelia sat around the small dining table in Giles' apartment. Willow, still bummed, was spinning the quill on the table's surface. Oz was contemplating the thermos in front of him with his Wolfsbane potion. Cordelia was skimming the latest issue of Cosmo, keeping up with the latest fashion, and Xander was wearing an expression those in the room would describe as 'Oz's Deep Thoughts face.'

Giles sidled up to the teens, torn between being a proper host, and wanting his apartment back from the loitering teenagers.

"Perhaps, if there's nothing else, we should adjourn to our own homes for the evening?" Giles collected the large tome off the table, carrying it reverently back to his book case.

"I'm sorry," Xander rose as he spoke, clearly agitated. "I tried to hold it in, best I could, but I'm freaking out. I'm freaking out about this whole 'horcrux-rip-your-soul-to-pieces' stuff. And I don't know how you all can stand it."

Giles was not alone in his confusion regarding Xander's words, but he was the first one to say anything in response. "Care to elaborate, Xander?"

"Okay," Xander paused to collect himself a bit. "Angel. I could grasp the concept of a soul actually existing. Has a soul, he's good. Soul go bye-bye, he's bad. Every story I've ever heard was about 'losing your soul,' or 'selling your soul,' it was a single unit. Indivisible. Now, we've got fractions."

Cordelia rolled her eyes derisively. "So, you're freaking out about math?"

Xander glared at her, but help back a retort. "This Voldemort guy was a monster, worse than Angelus, but he still had a bit of a soul. Argument could be made it wasn't much of one if he made a horcrux in the first place, but he had one—a bit of one—in him. What's freaking me out is this: at what point did he stop being a man, and became the monster?"

"You don't need to actually lose your soul to become a monster, Xander." Giles returned to the table where the three teens still sitting were now looking up at him. "There are plenty of figures in history who metaphorical lost their souls, without doing so metaphysically. There have even been a few mortal men and women in this town who have crossed that line without rending their souls."

"And Buffy always did what she could to stop them without killing them."

"Yes, because they were human."

"But we would have had no problem with Buffy killing Voldemort," Oz interjected. "He was, by all the criteria, human, but we wouldn't have qualms with Buffy killing him. I think Xander's flip-out—

"Freak out," Xander corrected.

"—freak out, is coming from the implied double standard."

"But, Harry used a non-lethal spell against Voldemort," Willow defended. "It just bounced back on him. Technically, Voldemort killed himself; like Mrs. Madison did."

"So, crazed magic-users go in the 'lethal force' column," Xander asked sarcastically.

"Maybe," Willow replied bashfully. "If they're evil enough."

"But what is 'evil enough,'" Oz pondered aloud.

"It's not that difficult," Cordelia exclaimed, dramatically dropping her magazine on the table. "Vold-a-whatever stopped being human the instant he mutilated his soul. Like Giles said, 'metaphorical-versus-metaphysical.' You metaphorically damage your soul when you kill someone, but you can try to make amends. Ripping a part out and shoving it in a book, or a baby, you give up your humanity card. Plain and simple." Cordelia leaned back in her chair with her arms crossed, silently daring anyone to counter her.

The other Scoobies were stunned into silence. Even Xander was amazed with the clarity of Cordelia's statement.

"Wow," Willow murmured. "Cordelia Chase, unlikely voice of reason."

"Quite." Giles wiped his glasses as he retreated to the kitchen.

Xander slowly retook his seat next to Cordelia, never taking his eyes off of her. "That was kind of hot. Who knew smart was so sexy?"

Willow used all her might to keep from groaning at Xander. _'_NOW _he figures that out?'_

* * *

End Part 1

* * *

**A/N: **_Okay, I was meaning for this to be one chapter, but I didn't quite realize how much I was trying to jam in. A lot of what I had in mind for '_2 Days in the Dale_' was setting up future events, and the start of the off-ramp from Canon._

_I apologize for how long it took to get this posted, but… '_Tomb Raider' _and '_Injustice: Gods Amongst Us' _are really addicting games! Totally blew it on my end._

_Part 2 is probably going to be half this length. It pretty much all takes place at Harry and Faith's place, and I will try to have that up my May 10__th__. No, there aren't any more video games calling me away, just a documentary I'll be working on pretty heavily for the next 6 to 8 weeks._

_Please R&R. I love the great feedback, and I may dedicate a post to responding to some of the questions and comments (non-spoilerific questions, anyway) that I've gotten._


	10. Chapter 10 - 2 Days in the Dale - Part 2

**A Year Abroad**

**Chapter 10 – 2 Days in the Dale – Part 2**

**A/N: **_From the top, I own neither Buffy nor Harry Potter, or any of their affiliated characters. The only characters I own are the ones of my own creation, and even those are few compared to the number of established characters._

_This chapter's Q&A is one I got a while back from _**aceman122**_**. "Is Harry the Master of Death in your story?"**__ This one is a "yes, but no" answer. Harry is the "Master of Death" in that he had gathered the Hallows; however, beyond that, the title means nothing, especially to Harry. Harry survived the second killing curse, not because of being the "Master of Death," but because of the arrogance and ignorance of Voldemort. Also, I view the title as more of an honorific one, since Harry doesn't command death, he simply accepts it, and doesn't run in fear from it. Essentially, being the Master of Death is no more special than being the Sausage King of Chicago._

_Keep the questions and reviews coming. In the meantime, enjoy._

* * *

**September 6, 1998 – Harry and Faith's Apartment – 12:07 a.m. PDT**

The front door of the apartment opened, casting light into the darkened living room from the lamp in the hallway. Faith limped through, assisted by Harry, who had her arm across his shoulders.

"Ow. Ow. Fuckity ow!" Faith winced every time she stepped on her wounded right leg.

"Stop being such a baby." Harry eased the brunette slayer into a chair and eased her leg onto the coffee table, before closing the front door.

"Excuse me," Faith asked, sounding offended. "You're not the one that had their knee shattered by a vamp earlier."

"Remind me to tell you one day about Quidditch." Harry rolled his eyes as he walked to the kitchen. "First off, it wasn't shattered. The fact my episkey spell had no effect means nothing was broken." Harry pulled open a drawer that Faith was unable to see from her current location.

"Are you fixing me up one of your first aid potions?"

"No," Harry responded without emotion, "Because of point number two." Faith saw him pull out a cold pack from the freezer and wrap it in a hand towel.

"Your Slayer Healing has more than likely already kicked in. Which, from the stories Buffy told me, you'll have nothing worse than a bruise come morning." Harry gently laid the towel-wrapped cold pack on Faith's wounded knee. "That should be enough for the swelling."

Faith placed a hand on the bundle, keeping it steady on her knee. "Potion would still be faster."

Harry plopped down on the couch perpendicular to her, releasing a heavy sigh. "Finally, when you are patrolling with a wizard, maybe you should relax your rules about how he can help when you call 'Dibs,'" Harry made air-quotes as he said 'dibs.' "The guy wouldn't have kicked you in the knee, if you had let me cast petrificus totalus on him."

"The day I can't take out a vamp, solo, is the day I'm done as a Slayer." Faith let the darker connotation of her statement hang unsaid.

"I don't think the issue was you taking him," Harry slowly explained. "Rather, it was taking him and his two buddies on at the same time."

Faith chuckled at the look on Harry's face. It was a mix of 'annoyed,' 'sarcastic,' and 'near-lecture' that she had only seen before on Helen and Giles. _'Must be a British thing,'_ Faith thought.

Harry broke into a grin as Faith's chuckling continued. "Care to share the joke, Faith?"

Faith smothered her chuckles long enough to speak. "No."

"Promise to accept some assistance from your 'battle-mage' in the future?"

"'Battle-mage'?" Faith quirked her eyebrow at Harry.

"What? You think I was completely unaware of _Dungeons and Dragons_?"

"I just thought you would have assumed it was a textbook." Faith's chuckles resumed when Harry's – now dubbed – 'British Face' returned.

"The face," Faith wheezed as she fell back into the cushion of her armchair, cackling madly. "Oh, God, that face."

Harry released an exaggerated sigh as he rose from his seat, doing his best to ignore Faith's howling laughter. "Well, if you think you're indestructible enough to make it to your room, I'll bid you goodnight."

"Wait," Faith called out, once more gaining control of her breath. "Could you get me some snacks from the kitchen?"

"Taking 'midnight snack' awful literal, don't you think?"

"Like I said, slaying makes me hungry and horny."

Harry fell silent at Faith's declaration. After an awkwardly quiet moment, he finally spoke. "So, anything in particular, or pot luck?"

"I'm good with whatever." Faith tapped her fingers on top of the wrapped ice pack as Harry scrounged in the kitchen, mentally debating her next question. "Hey, Harry?"

Harry returned to the room with a loaf of bread, a package of lunchmeat, and a can of pop, which he set on the table for Faith. "Yes?"

"Out of curiosity… What kind of wards are you planning on putting up?" Faith popped open the can, resting it on the cold pack.

"Pretty standard set of protections," Harry began. "Anti-apparition, fire prevention, extra layer of anti-vampire, hostile intent aversion—"

"Would they…prevent me from…bringing a guest home?" Faith wasn't blushing, but she wasn't keeping eye contact with the dark haired wizard, either.

Harry cottoned on to Faith's intention pretty quickly, and decided to see if he could get the slayer to blush. "Are you asking if you can bring home guys to shag?"

"I just want to make sure whoever I bring over doesn't turn into a beast." Faith brought the can to her lips, indulging in a deep gulp.

"I figured you'd like your one-night stands like that," Harry replied with a wink.

Faith sputtered as she struggled not to inhale her drink. She leaned forward, managing not to spill any on her shirt. Harry couldn't help but grin at getting such a reaction from the brunette.

"What the hell, Harry!" Faith's cheeks were turning a mild pink as she brushed off her shirt of any potential spatter.

Harry chuckled at the look on Faith's face. _'Not sure if that's from the comment or the coughing, but I'll take it, anyway.'_ Harry turned toward his room, speaking over his shoulder. "I'll put some charms on the walls to soundproof them. And don't expect me to make breakfast for them."

Harry shut his door before Faith could respond. She sat there, mouth gaping, amazed that she let Harry get to her like that. A part of her wanted to slap him silly for doing so, but another part wanted to tip her cap to him.

"I think I liked you better when only I made you blush!" Faith turned back to the sandwich fixings in front of her, grumbling under her breath.

Harry rubbed his face as he sat down on his bed, now in his sleep clothes. He looked at his nightstand, the new letters resting against the refilled rack of Dreamless Sleep potions. Harry slowly pulled one of the six phials out, removing the stopper.

"Pleasant dreams." Harry whispered to the room before downing the purple potion and lying back in his bed.

* * *

**Sunnydale High Library – 11:00 a.m.**

The walls of the Sunnydale High School Library were almost vibrating with the level of noise contained within. Inside of the cage, across from the Library counter, the redheaded couple of Oz and Willow were assembling a new feature to the cage. The feature required the use of noisy power tools. In the middle of the room, Giles sparred with Buffy using the new Eskrima sticks he had recently ordered. The loud clanks and clonks adding themselves to the wall of noise. Finally, at the table, Cordelia was cleaning a crossbow as Xander whittled a new stake.

"You know," Xander mused aloud, "This has got to be the finest stake I have ever crafted. Look at the lines on that point."

"About the only good points you ever make," Cordelia retorted dryly.

Xander frowned, but repressed any potential comeback. He instead rose from his chair and crossed over to Willow and Oz. "So, what you guys rigging up over here?"

Willow turned excitedly as Oz continued bolting the bulky computer monitor to the outside of the cage. "Well, we need a way to test the effectiveness of the Wolfsbane potion on Oz while he's all wolfey. And since the Wolfsbane is meant to keep his brain in control, we're going to have him type 'yes or no' answers to questions throughout the night."

Willow gestured to a slightly oversized keyboard that was set on the floor of the inside of the cage; her hand then followed the path of cables as she spoke. "He uses that keyboard, which is connected to that computer, and his response shows on the monitor."

"Cool," said Xander in a mildly impressed voice. "Like the gorilla in _Congo_."

"I think I'd prefer to describe it as like later Silver Age Hulk." Oz looked up at Xander as he tightened the last bolt.

"As would any of us," Xander sarcastically responded.

The group's thoughts were interrupted as Buffy took a wild swing at Giles, who managed to sidestep the blow. Buffy's strike caused the eskrima stick to shatter on the floor.

Willow leaned in conspiratorially to Xander and Oz. "Does it seem like Buffy's a bit off her game?"

"Probably still a little frazzled from Friday," said Oz. "Talking about Angel can't have been easy."

"Poor Buff," Xander said softly, shaking his head. "Can't she have one summer without drama?"

"I'd be shocked by one week without it." Willow sighed empathically for her friend.

"I'm not disparaging your strength, Buffy," Giles said as he picked up pieces of the broken stick. "But you must also practice restraint. Do not over-commit to an attack."

Buffy ran her hand through her hair, brushing the loose strands off her sweaty forehead. She twirled her remaining stick in a distracted manner, keeping that arm towards Giles. Giles got into a textbook stance, squaring off with Buffy.

Giles made the first move; he attempted to use the advantage of still having two sticks by striking at Buffy from opposite directions. She deflected both strikes, thanks to her speed, and then stepped into one of his swings, snatching the stick from his hand. She then blocked his remaining stick and brought the pilfered one to rest on where the point where his shoulder met his neck. The entire match took less than fifteen seconds.

Xander clapped as Giles demurely stepped back from Buffy. "Yes," the British Watcher mumbled. "Quite good. Perhaps we should call that a day?"

"We're pretty much done over here," Willow responded. "Just need to give Oz his potion this afternoon, and we'll be ready to test. I've got a whole battery of questions to use tonight. And I got a whole notebook ready to take notes and make observations."

"Am I gonna have to take notes," Cordelia asked from her seat.

"No…"

"Great!" Cordelia smiled brightly. "You have fun with that."

Buffy looked over at the clock. "I better take a shower here, if we're going to make it to Harry and Faith's on time."

* * *

_The air was thick with the dust from the battle. His steps echoed down the cracked and crumbling stones of the corridor. Whispers teased at the edges of his hearing._

_Two seventh years in torn and dirtied robes carried the still body of another student past him. Both fought to keep from breaking down in the middle of their solemn task. They seemed to pay Harry no notice._

_Harry followed the students closer and closer to the source of the whispers. The Great Hall. Before, walking in through its large doors would mean walking into the noise of more than two hundred chattering students. Now, there was a collection of haggard, and bloodied witches and wizards, silently taking in the sight of fifty of their friends now laying out on the bare floor, forever still._

_By the door, Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin lay side-by-side; the fingers of their hands barely touching. A few places down, lay the corpse of Fred Weasley; a grin seemingly frozen on his face. But something wasn't right…Fred was alone._

_Harry spun around in the midst of the Hall. He had to find them. He had to know. His eyes fell upon a number of bodies with familiar red hair, a single bushy-haired witch stood out from the cluster of redheads. All of them bloodied, their faces frozen in expressions of terror, silently screaming._

'_NO!' Harry couldn't believe it. This wasn't what was supposed to happen._

_A meek whimper to his left drew his attention. He turned to see Buffy, a vicious slash across her stomach, weeping over the bodies of Willow and Xander. Giles was pressing a reddening rag against a wound in Cordelia's side. Faith pulled a blanket over a still Oz._

_A voice, more like a hiss, sounding like a teapot coming to boil, filled the Great Hall. It closed in around him like a fog bank until all he could hear was the voice calling to him._

"_HARRY…POTTER!"_

* * *

**Harry and Faith's – 11:20 a.m.**

Harry woke up with a start, nearly tumbling off the couch in his and Faith's living room. His wand was in his hand out of reflex, quickly taking cover, checking the room for targets. His breath coming in ragged gasps.

'_There are no Death Eaters here. You're safe.' _Harry repeated in his head. _'They're safe, too.'_

Harry slid to the floor, his back against the couch. He dropped his wand between his legs and buried his face in his hands. He struggled to calm his nerves and collect himself before Faith returned or the others showed up.

He rose to his feet and made his way to his desk inside of his expanded bedroom. He pulled out a piece of parchment and a fountain pen. He didn't know whom else to write to about this. _'She's the only one who'd understand,'_ he thought desperately.

It was a short letter, but the sloppy handwriting would be enough to convey the urgency. He didn't need many words to convey anything to her.

_Hermione,_

_The dreams are coming again._

Harry shakily returned the cap to the pen, before he set the pen and letter to the side.

* * *

**12:05 p.m.**

Faith opened the door, and stepped silently aside, allowing Joyce to enter the apartment. She carried a Tupperware container over to the kitchen counter.

"Mrs. S," Faith greeted the woman. "You're the first one here."

"I brought a dessert. I hope you don't mind."

"Five-by-five in my book."

Joyce examined the room, a look of pleasant surprise on her face. "My, this is certainly well furnished. You guys got this all set up in a day?"

"Harry has people. Well…" Faith grinned to herself. "I say people."

Harry entered from his room, buttoning up a smart looking dress shirt he had on over a t-shirt and khakis. "Faith, was that someone at the door? Oh, hey, Mrs. Summers." Harry smiled and waved politely.

"I was just telling Faith I liked your guys' decorating."

Harry smiled wider. "I asked Kreacher to bring some things over from the house. He does excellent work."

"Your house?" Joyce blinked as she processed the statement. "You mean, your house in England?"

"Uh-huh." Faith acknowledged on Harry's behalf.

"And who's – Kreacher?"

A soft pop was the only warning Joyce received before the house elf made his presence known. "Kreacher is the caretaker of the Ancestral Home of the House of Black."

A shocked Joyce smothered a scream as she spun around at the sudden voice behind her.

"It's cool, Mrs. S." Faith patted Joyce on the shoulder. "Kreacher is Harry's house elf. He's a bit rough around the edges, but he's alright."

"Kreacher thanks Miss Faith." Kreacher bowed deeply, the duplicate locket made by as he did. "Kreacher must keep wary. Elves hear all kinds of stories of Slayers. Kreacher knows how Miss Faith deals with dark creatures."

Joyce turned to Harry, unsure what to do. Faith also wanted a hint as to what to say.

"He was alone for a long time," Harry offered in explanation. "Pretty much only had himself and a surly portrait to talk to."

"You say that like we should know what that means," Faith said before she turned back to Kreacher. "I'll make you a deal, Kreacher: You don't come after me, I won't go after you. Sound good?"

"Kreacher agrees, Miss."

The knock on the door ended any further conversation. Before Harry could move, Kreacher had already gone to the door and opened it.

"Hey, guys…" Xander drifted off as he and the assembled Scoobies lowered their gazes to take in the elf in front of them. "Um… hello?"

"Another Slayer? Two have magic, but are not wizardkind, a wolf, and another two muggles. Master's friends continue to perplex Kreacher."

"Oh! You're Kreacher?" Willow stepped in past the others, and kneeled down to his level. "Harry told us how much you helped him during the war. It's a pleasure to meet you." Willow extended her hand towards Kreacher, who gazed at Willow in mild wonder. He slowly took her hand.

"Much power flows through this one. Kreacher almost mistake her for wizardkind."

The assembled Scoobies, save for Willow, turned towards Harry curiously. "He's kind of lost his ability for inner monologue."

Xander chuckled lightly. "All part of the unfreezing process?"

Harry quirked an eyebrow at Xander. "The what?"

* * *

**12:20 p.m.**

Harry came back into the living room carrying several slightly used textbooks. He set them on the table in front of Willow and Oz before resting down on the couch next to them.

"Okay. These are my first year textbooks." Harry picked the books up one at a time as he described them to Willow. "Potions will likely be the most interest to you as it does not involve wand work. Do keep in mind what the apothecary said about transformative potions on people without magical cores."

"Charms, transfiguration, and defense, I know the diagrams and wand movements will do you no good, but hopefully the theory can help you with your own studies."

Willow accepted the books with an eagerness Harry had seen before in Hermione. "These are so cool. Actual magic textbooks! I mean, the books I've found are fine, but they read like Bibles. Oh, speaking of which—" Willow pulled out an older looking book from her bag. "Here's one on Wicca magic. Thought it would be a good place for you to start."

Harry took the book from Willow's hand before opening it to a random page. "I'll have to send a copy of this to Hermione. She's as eager to learn this as she is to study for her N.E.W.T.s."

"I don't know if you'll be able to find another copy of that one. That came from Miss Calendar's collection, and I haven't been able to find that in any shops, or—" Willow ceased talking as Harry set the book on the table in front of them, pulled out his wand, and cast a nonverbal _Gemino_. He opened the two copies of the book to the same page, showcasing that they match.

"Or, you could do that," Willow said in awe.

Oz leaned over to look directly at Harry. "Do you think that would work on CD's?"

* * *

**12:30 p.m.**

Harry, Faith, and the Sunnydale locals were having an enjoyable time. Chatting, relaxing, getting to know one another. Harry was sharing stories of some of his more harmless exploits while at Hogwarts, and Joyce was sharing some of the cuter stories of Buffy growing up. Everyone was enjoying themselves…except Buffy when Joyce told them all about the Dorothy Hamill hair phase.

Xander thoughtlessly set his drink on the coffee table. Less than a second later, Kreacher popped in, and very passive-aggressively slid a coaster underneath the cup.

"He's a bit O.C.D., isn't he?" Xander looked around the room with a grin on his face.

Harry cleared his throat before speaking. "Xander, Kreacher has lived his life taking care of the House of Black, and all its holdings. I'm going to take a stab in the dark, and guess that coffee table is at least older than your parents."

Kreacher returned, standing next to Harry, back straight as he proudly spoke. "That table has belonged to the House of Black since before this town was founded, Master."

Joyce examined the table with an appreciative eye. It was in very good condition for over three hundred years old.

"It is also never wise to upset a house elf," Harry warned.

Xander blanched under the harsh, judgmental glower of Kreacher.

* * *

**1:05 p.m.**

"I'm not judging, and I know that they're better protected doing so, but I can't help but question the wisdom of them living here," Joyce said quietly to Giles as the two stood in the kitchen. "Wouldn't it be safer for them to live with one of us?"

Giles nodded thoughtfully at Joyce's question. "While I could, potentially, make an argument for Faith to live under my roof, none of us have any say over Harry's choices. I dare say, that were we to attempt to do impose our wills on him, all we'd do is chase him out of town." Giles removed his glasses and began cleaning them.

"As for Faith, tough she was located by her Watcher at a younger age than Buffy, it was not by much. And like Buffy, her personality is one to—"buck authority," I believe is the term."

Joyce smiled softly as she nodded her agreement with Giles' assessment of Buffy. "And frankly," Giles continued, "Despite their years, this group has proven itself some of the most mature teenagers I have ever met."

"No, no. Jump over that. Hit X! Hit X!" Faith smacked Harry's shoulder as he wildly mashed the buttons on the Playstation controller.

"No, you need to pick up that ammo over there," Xander said, pointing at the screen.

"I know I didn't do well on my History of Magic exams, but I'm pretty sure the Mayans never used Golems like that."

"Watch your health bar," Willow added.

Once more, the sound of Lara Croft: Tomb Raider dying could be heard from the T.V. Harry handed the controller over to Faith. She snatched the controller with relish.

"Let me show you some real magic, Wiz-Kid."

Harry groaned at yet another nickname from Faith.

* * *

**3:13 p.m.**

Oz poured a capful of the steaming potion out of the thermos. Willow stood by with a pad of paper and a watch, taking precise notes of everything. In the bathroom mirror, Oz saw Harry, Faith, and Buffy standing in the open doorway, their attention firmly on the young werewolf.

"Here goes nothing." Oz drank the dose of potion in one gulp. His face grimaced and twitched momentarily. "Has more kick than a Josta."

Willow took the lid from Oz and replaced it on the thermos. "Any other initial reactions beyond the taste? "

Oz shook his head. "No. Nothing feels unusual."

"The real test will come at sundown." Harry turned around, and called out to the other guests behind them. "Okay, everyone, no adverse effects. We can all breathe easy."

* * *

**5:30 p.m.**

Harry stood by the door as he shook hands with Xander and Cordelia. "Thanks for dropping by, you guys. It was really nice."

"No prob, Harry." Xander leaned in close as he whispered, "In case it's needed, is there something I can give Kreacher to calm him down?"

"Not clothes," Harry stressed to Xander before shaking Cordelia's hand as well. The couple left hand in hand, on their ways home.

"B, I'll see later tonight for patrol." Faith looked from Buffy to Joyce, who was now carrying the empty tupper ware. "Mrs. S, thanks again for coming. The dessert was awesome."

"Thank you, Faith. If you two need anything, feel free to ask. My door is always open."

The two Summers women left the apartment, leaving behind Faith, and the group who would soon depart to the library.

"Have we got everything gathered that's not already at the library?" Willow asked the group.

"Other than me, everything should be in place." Oz gave Willow a dry grin.

"Are you sure you won't need me, tonight," Giles asked.

"Harry's going to stick with me the first few hours," Willow replied. "And Xander's going to show up after one o'clock to replace me."

"Very well. I suppose we should head out, then."

* * *

**Sunnydale High Library – 9:30 p.m.**

Sunset had occurred that evening at 7:12 p.m. Pacific Daylight Time. Willow had taken meticulous notes about the events of that evening. She had used the projected time of sunset to base the earliest Oz could take the potion that day. Her anticipation of the evening had been building since that time, and now she felt a mix of joy and relief at the sight before her. Oz, in werewolf form, was sitting quietly and patiently in the locked cage inside the library.

"Oz," Willow asked, full of hope. "How do you feel right now?"

Willow, and Harry, who had been standing by to stun Oz if he started reacting badly to the potion, turned to the monitor outside the cell as Werewolf-Oz hunted-and-pecked on the keyboard.

_Feel fine_, he typed out.

Willow's cheeks ached a little at how wide her smile was. All the other times she had observed Oz's changes, he had been in great pain during, and been a wild animal after. Tonight, other than a few grunts when his limbs lengthened, he had made no disconcerting noises as he changed. And now, two hours after transformation, he was still in control.

Harry joined Willow in her excitement. He was pleased to see that he could help alleviate some of the troubles of one of his new friends. It brought to mind another werewolf that had been aided by a Potter to feel more normal. He also resolved to write another letter to Andromeda soon, to check on Teddy.

"Well, I think I can leave you two alone for the rest of the evening." Harry slid his wand into its holster on his wrist. "Willow, Oz, I'm glad to see this helps."

He paused as he heard the telltale clicks of the keyboard. He looked back to read the message from Oz as it appeared.

_Thank you._

Willow gave Harry a big, rib squeezing hug. "What he said," she mumbled into Harry's chest.

Harry returned the hug, patting Willow gently on the shoulder. Once she released him, he left the library with a renewed excitement in his step.

Willow picked up her leather-bound copy of _Call of the Wild_, and began reading to Werewolf-Oz.

* * *

**A/N: **_Okay, so I suck at keeping to my own deadlines. Not going to make a promise on when the next chapter is going to be posted. Am hoping I can get it done in less than a month, but we'll see. It will be a long one, even if I split it up._

_At present, the count for this story is 148 Reviews, 654 Follows, and 480 Favorites. I'm so glad so many of you guys are enjoying this, and I hope to not disappoint with future chapters. (Even though I fear this one was my weakest) _


	11. AN - Not Abandoned

Hey, everyone!

Just wanted you to know that I have not abandoned the story. I've had a very busy month-and-a-half. (Filmed a pilot, weeklong family reunion out-of-state, etc).

I promise the next chapter will be up by end of July.

Also, I changed the pairing information to reflect what will be the romantic pairing of this story. That was the question I received the most, so now that I've disclosed it, you all can ask something else. :)


End file.
